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The Calling (DrTrollinski & Zhai)

"I'm not really hungry....probably won't eat." Her ankles uncrossed and she sat up in her seat, moving towards the edge of the plastic chair, leaning over and pressing her elbows atop her thighs. "You have to get something kids can eat, though." Although Carl and Mia were far from adults, they weren't five year old kids anymore, either; and with that realization, the house food supply had also matured with them. There was no more abundance of snacks or meals fit for a five year old but rather more things that required a bit of cooking, especially since Mrs. Greene was the sole chef in the house. There were so chicken nuggets and french fries in the freezer waiting to be put in the oven and Mia doubted there was peanut butter and jelly waiting to be put between two slices of bread. Nan hated peanut butter and jelly, and therefore, never brought it from the store.


Certainly, Carl wasn't the right choice to pick when it came to making a meal. The cookies he made turned out edible and she chalked it up to him actually following the recipe this time. Now with no recipe, she couldn't imagine what concoction he'd come up with to feed Connor.


Ordering a pizza probably wasn't the best idea simply because, once again, they won't supposed to be in this house in the first place. She sat quietly, thoughtfully moving her legs from one side to the other. When she finally thought of something, her legs stopped waving and she stood out of her seat.


She inched between her chair and Carl's chair, ruffled his hair, and spoke quietly. "I'll just order a pizza." Mia pushed the glass slider to the right to open it, stepping quietly in and past Connor. Maybe it was her lack of association with smaller children but she wasn't as excited about the new little person in the house as Carl was. Probably because she anticipated Carl was trying to make friends with his future brother in law early.
 
"You're forgetting something, Mia!" He said, and then quickly ran after her and dashed in through the doors, smiling at Connor as he went by him. As soon as he caught up, he put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around. "The last dilemma we need is you ordering something that he doesn't like, isn't it?" He chuckled. "And you. You're going to eat something, even if it's only a... Hell, I don't know, even if it's a slice of bread and jam." He winked at her. "We don't want you wasting away now, do we?" He grinned as he reached down and jabbed a finger into her side - it wasn't a hard jab, just enough to give it a tickled sort of feeling, as well as making Mia squirm a bit.


"Seeing as you don't trust me with ordering pizza, it seems, you can come with me and take the order." He dragged her back into the living room so that they were stood in front of Connor, whom of which just looked up at them both. "Hey, buddy... We... Well, we don't exactly have anything in the house to cook, so... We're gonna' order pizza." He said, and Connor's face instantly lit up. "What type of pizza do you want? You got any allergies we should know about?" He asked.


"Uh..." He smiled and thought for a moment. ".. I'm allergic to some kinda' medicine." He said, Carl reached up and rubbed his face with his hand, laughing under his breath for a few moments.


"Alright, that's fine. What pizza?" He asked.


"Just cheese, please." He said, and then lied back on the couch. "Can we get orange soda, too? I like orange soda." He grinned at Carl, and Carl rolled his eyes and nodded at him.


"Sure we can... My treat, okay?" He winked at him, and then turned and walked out of the room with Mia again. "Well, there we have it. The kid likes plain pizza, can't go wrong with that." He smiled, and then looked at her - He took the phone from the little table in the hallway and handed it to her; he really was getting concerned about her, though - She never seemed to be hungry at the right times, nor did she ever choose to eat anything of variation - It was always fruit, salad, salad, in terms of breakfast, lunch, and dinner - Sure, she'd throw in some other stuff here and there, but... Like Carl said, he ate anything he wanted, yet, he was still perfectly thin, and very healthy, too.


"Mia... Order a large cheese pizza, and a bottle of orange soda. We'll go crazy and have a large tonight." He smiled. "Also... I'd feel better if you had a slice of it, but... If you don't want to, that's fine." He paused for a minute. "I know we've been over this before, but... I don't want to give you another lecture, I just want to talk about it." He sighed. "Why--.. Like, what made you change your diet like that? You know, eating pure health-based stuff, sometimes skipping a meal or having next to nothing... I'm not doing it to get at you, I'm just.. I'm just worried, that's all." He shrugged weakly. "It just seemed to get progressively more... stronger, you know? Did... Did someone say something, Mia? You know, make some dickish comment that they didn't mean, or try and force some sort of... health regime on you?" He asked. He really did look worried - A lot was getting to his head, and in his eyes, some things only seemed to be getting worse.
 
No!, she thought right before Carl grabbed her arm and dragged her with him into the living room; back to Connor and back to the awkward atmosphere. When they went it she was already mentally rushing Connor and Carl's conversation, and she stepped back to let Carl have his decision pow-wow with Connor alone. There was just something about children she wasn't comfortable with and she regretted never having been properly associated with them. It wasn't rocket science or anything on how to interact with a child, especially since there were plenty in her school, but she couldn't fathom how people were just naturally at east with them. Right now, she wasn't.


Just before Carl and Connor's conversation came to an end, Mia was already making her exit out of the space and heading to the closest phone. At this point she recognized her only job was to make the call, order the pizza, pay the guy, and she could wash her hands of this babysitting business. Connor was Carl's future brother-in-law, after all, and the thought of Carl taking on another sibling actually make her nose wrinkle and the corner of her lip draw up in rejection at the idea. Whatever. Connor was five. She felt petty for thinking of ways to deter a five year old from thinking Carl was family.


"Cheese pizza is so...plain." She groaned, taking the phone from Carl and staring at the dialing pad. It was ironic she was complaining about a plain pizza when she wasn't even going to eat any pizza. Let them eat whatever pizza they wanted, right? Not her business.


In the middle of her dialing the first couple of numbers she remembered to the regular pizza delivery, she caught on to Carl talking about the whole eating thing. Intentionally she didn't answer his statement or question, pressed 'Call', and pressed the phone to her ear. "Stop being worried, Carl. The only person trying to be my personal dietitian here is you." Mia smiled and patted her brother's shoulder to assure him before she walked further away from him and closer to the front door. The phone was still ringing when she leaned against the front door's frame, and squinted through the glass middle of the door.


Carl worried too much about the wrong things.


By the time she was ready to hang up and call again, there was a click and someone came on the line. Whoever it was on the other side sounded like they'd sprinted to the phone and after a minute of heavy breathing, they finally started the company greeting.


"Yeah...can I have a pizza for delivery?"


"Sure, sure." The person on the other line sounded like a guy, maybe a teenager, and he was still breathing heavy. "We've got some specials. Do you want to he-"


"No. I want a large cheese and orange soda."


"Okkkay. Cheese. Large. Orange soda. Is that it?"


"Yeah."


She sighed out of the phone, gave him the address to the Parkers' residence, and hung up before he finished saying what time the pizza would be there. It felt wrong being on the phone, much as it felt wrong being in the house. Mia opened the coat closet, pulled out a jacket, stuffed her feet into a pair of running shoes she hardly used, and sat the phone on the stairs.


The pizza would be at least ten or fifteen minutes, so she made herself comfortable in the kitchen; made a cup of coffee and thoughtlessly stirred it at the counter.
 
Carl followed her into the kitchen and sighed. "I'm not trying to be a dietitian." He said, a little defensively. He didn't like that. In fact, even if that comment wasn't a serious one, it really got to him. Not in the sad kind of way, but in the way that it made him feel a little bit angry - He couldn't stand the thought. Mia just sitting there, eating nothing all night, and if she did eat anything, it'd be salad - It was always salad, the most dull and unoriginal meal that hit the surface of the earth, unless you threw on some sauces, a bit of cheese, and some meat - Christ, he could make a salad if he wanted to, but that wasn't the point. He didn't believe it for a minute that she actually enjoyed it, eating it every day for lunch - God no. She wanted to be a girl with a six-pack who ate salad all day. No, that wasn't attractive at all, in his eyes, that just portrayed a boring lifestyle that made you look like you'd rather eat healthy and work out than loosen up for a night and go out for a meal with some friends.


He sat down on a chair in the kitchen table and slowly rubbed his head with his hands.


"I'm not trying to be that." He said, once again. He was overly stressed. He was... He wasn't upset. He was something else again. He wasn't really angered anymore. There was just something inside him that was screaming to him, but he didn't know what it was. He hated it when this happened, everyone did, he just didn't know how to deal with it. No one knew how to deal with it until it finally let itself out, and then action could be taken. When it happened, he'd go out of his way to try and hurt people (not physically) - He'd insult mom, dad, but never Mia. For some reason, there was always something that held him back, but how long was it going to be until he snapped?


It's okay, Carl. You can stay calm. Keep it civil, ask normal questions, stay calm.





"I'm not trying that." He said, this time sounding very slightly angry and a bit more defensive.


Dammit. Take a deep breath, Carl.





He took a deep breath, he clenched his thigh in his hand so tight that it started to hurt, and then closed his eyes and bowed his head towards the table. Right. If she doesn't want to eat, so be it, but Carl was thinking about the future - Let's be honest, she wasn't exactly far off of having an eating disorder - She was healthy, but her diet...? He didn't consider skipping meals to be healthy at all. It's okay. He was going to take his mind off of it, hopefully.


"If--.." He took a heavy deep breath. "If you're not going to eat with us, can you at least sit with us and have a glass of orange soda...?" He asked. "You know, it'd be..." He paused and opened his eyes up again, and then looked at the table. "It would be nice to have a chat, you know? Maybe it'd be good for Connor to get to know you a little more, seeing as he's going to be staying here for tonight... Plus, I'd like to talk to you as well, if that's not a problem." He said, and then went to tracing patterns on the table with his index finger.


For Christ's sake, why did that anger inside him challenge him so much? Even over words?
 
Carl had at least repeated himself four or five times, and each time she heard him but didn't respond to him. It was easy to tell he was frustrated about something again and she could tell if it was because of Jenna or her this time. Mia suspected it was about the whole eating thing again and this time she didn't feel there was a need to get worked up over it. At least not on her end of it. They'd had this conversation before about eating right and being healthy, and she'd bowed to Carl after the fact; no salads for meals, having breakfast instead of skipping it, drinking more water. This time she felt that Carl was adding fuel to his own fire on the eating situation and she wasn't going to apologize for it because she hadn't done anything. He knew that sometimes she just wasn't hungry and she wanted to express to him that sometimes in life there would be people around him that just weren't in the mood to eat; and that he couldn't force them. Instead she didn't say anything until she was sure Carl had stopped repeating his plea that he wasn't a dietitian.


Ceasing the endless stirring of coffee she had no intention of drinking, she cleared her throat to talk quietly, "I know you're not, Carl. You don't need to keep commenting about my eating. I'm not wasting away and I'm not going days without anything." The spoon was tapped against the rim of the cup until there were no more drops of coffee rejoining the rest of the coffee in the cup, and she sat the spoon down on the counter. "You don't have to keep bringing up the whole eating thing. It only gets you worked up, and I don't want to see you worked up..." Mia looked up and past Carl enough to see through the slit of the curtain that there was no pizza car outside the Parkers' residence yet. Looking back at Carl, she smiled small, "...but I'm not going to stuff my face, either. This conversation will always be a lose-lose so it's better not to keep beating a dead horse, right? If Jen were here she probably wouldn't be in the mood to eat either with her father...."She pause, more like hesitated, and cleared her throat quietly. "I'm just saying that I don't feel like eating sometimes. That's all."


Mia grabbed the full mug of cold coffee, poured it into the sink, and quietly washed the mug, turning to glance at Carl a few times. He still looked like he was about to flip the counter up and steam might as well of been coming out of his ears at this point but it looked like he was controlling himself. Maybe because Connor was here. If he blew up while his girlfriend's brother was here, there was a witness to his anger and Jen probably wouldn't accept Carl's outbursts scaring the shit out of her brother.


When she walked back to the counter and stood opposite her brother, she listened to his invitation for a glass of soda. She hated soda and felt like Carl should have remembered something like but then again she forgot the things he did and didn't like, too. "I'll stay for a drink then..."
 
"Christ, just stay for anything, whatever." He threw his hand up in the air for a brief moment and then bowed his head and placed it down on the table, gently slamming it a couple of times. "You can't really compare not wanting food to not eating because your dad has terminal cancer, by the way... It doesn't really work like that." He said. It was true, though - He thought that that was a really stupid comparison on her side, but he wasn't offended. "Just sit with us, drink some coffee, soda, water, tea, wine - I don't mind... It'd... It'd just be nice to talk about something that isn't about something dying, or isn't something depressing, that's all." He said, and then rose his head up from the table and leaned back in his chair again. He could still feel that feeling ticking away inside of him. He could still feel it devouring his inner strength and killing off everything inside him that was good or happy. It was really hurting him, too. He needed to... God, I don't know. He needed to do something to try and take control of it, or disaster was going to hit.


"Yeah, it's no use trying to speak about it. It doesn't get us anywhere." He gave an exasperated sigh and brought his hands up to his face, and rubbed it once again. Another deep breath, and he was calm, but as soon as he started breathing normally again, the anger came back - it was like taking boiling water off of a hob on the stove, letting it cool for thirty seconds so it stopped bubbling, and then putting it back over the flame and making it all happen again - He just wanted to empty the hot water out. He needed to just do... Well, anything. There was something, but he just couldn't figure it out.


"I need some air." He abruptly stood up from his seat so quickly that the chair almost went toppling over, and then he made a walk across the kitchen and out of the double doors - by the time he actually got to the doors, he was almost running, as his speed of walking increased with every second. Once he was outside he went to one of the poolside seats and collapsed into it, and then placed his face in his hands and started sobbing - Now the anger was coming out as sadness. It was all built up - There were just the little stupid things that always drove him over the edge, all because of a massive build up beforehand.


He wasn't sad about that, though.


He was sad because he saw himself as so fucking weird and cold.
 
Now Mia found herself growing irked but not because Carl was already irritated himself; it was his comment about Jenna's father not being the same or comparable to losing an appetite. Wow, right? She felt like Carl was acting like their parents still weren't missing without even a trace of where they could have gone to. Hell, they weren't even sure what time their parents had gone missing because by the morning, they were already gone. It felt like Carl was having all this compassion for Jenna but not for his own parents, and it pissed Mia off the more she let the thought stew in her mind.


So here it was he was having this overwhelming sympathy for Jen, who was sadly but luckily going to have a body to lay to rest, but for their parents he wasn't showing the same regard. It could be that in the next couple of months - maybe even less, weeks or days - the police were going to stop looking for searching people and start offering funeral services instead. They wouldn't even have a body to bury. They'd have these two headstones with their parents names on them. No one would even dig a hole for them, just stick some slabs of stone in the dirt and engrave something on it.


It was beyond frustrating and she slammed her first on the counter, ignoring the sharp stinging pain in her knuckles. What the fuck, Carl?, she wanted to say that but thought better of it and wasn't in the mood to chase him down, start arguing and making a scene. It was better to let him rest with his own thoughts and assumptions, just as she was going to take her own to bed, too.


Now that she was heated and irritated from him she started to reconsider sitting with them while they ate pizza. In her mind there was nothing positive to talk about anymore, especially with the sour mood they were both in, and she certainly didn't want to sit around Connor while feeling as venomous as she did now. Maybe she would have a glass of wine. Carl was already at peace with the absence of their parents so why shouldn't she accept it as well and have a glass of wine to celebrate?


Mia exhaled sharply, hoping some relief would follow, and started for the front door; pulling it open enough for a peak and then quickly moving to the other side and shutting it behind her. It'd been just about ten minutes so the pizza guy should be here soon - or rather, be at the Parkers' soon. She threw the hood of her jacket up, quickly walking out of the cul de sac and towards the Parkers' house. The gate was still closed, the front door still open, and the house still dark; and with how the scene looked, she reconsidered sitting on the front step. Reluctantly she entered the gate, crept up the short stairs,and lingered on the porch in front of the open door. Mustering up some false courage she closed her eyes, reached in to grab the knob, and pulled the front shut.


"Okay..." She said to herself, content that no one had jumped out to grab her, no one come running to catch the door before it closed, and certainly that the old woman didn't pop up. Feeling a little better with the door closed and the creepy inky blackness of the interior of the house behind the closed door, she turned and sat on the top step to wait.
 
Carl spent a good ten minutes out the back just sobbing and crying to himself. He felt like such a dick - Hell, he was a dick. He knew that, but he couldn't help it. He wished that he could do something about it, but sometimes, there was just nothing anyone could do to stop him from acting the way he did. He just had to stop himself, or he needed to find comfort in something or someone and hope that that things could calm down - this time, it just took a while. He waited, and once he was calm, he went back inside, peeked in on Connor to make sure he was okay, and then went into the kitchen to wait for Mia's return.


God, he did a lot of thinking in that extra ten minutes that he was waiting.


As soon as he heard the door open up, he literally sprinted to it and screeched to a halt. He saw Mia carrying the pizza box and the bag containing the bottle of orange soda and four plastic cups, and then took a deep breath and held a hand out to stop her from walking. It was still quite early - About six o'clock, so they had some time to burn before Connor started to get tired - That meant that Carl had some time to fix things between him and Mia - Undeniably, yes, he was a dick, he just wasn't aware of that at first.


"Connor! Come here a minute!" He called out.


"Coming!" A little voice called back, and soon, the little boy came dashing to Carl's side - He grinned as he looked up at Mia and the stuff she was holding. Carl reluctantly took it from her arms and then handed both the box and the bag to Connor.


"That's the pizza and the soda... I want you to take this into the kitchen, okay? Put it on the table, but don't start without us. Be careful, too."


"Okay!" He joyfully took the items and then carefully walked away - Carl waited for him to turn into the kitchen, and then he turned back to Mia and sighed. He didn't know how to start.


Wait. He'd found a good thing to start with.


"I'm sorry." He said. Then there was a long silence. ".. I know I was an asshole, Mia... I've spent the twenty minutes crying my eyes out in the back yard and then sitting at the table and thinking to myself. You know what it's like for me. Not directly, but... You know how I can be, and this time, I feel like I sort of gave up on you, gave up on everything, maybe I even gave up on myself... I just... I was a real dick to you, and I shouldn't have acted like that with you, and I shouldn't have said what I said... Sometimes, when I get angry or upset like I do... I say a lot of things that I don't mean. Those were just some of them." He took a deep breath and looked away for a few moments to blink several times, and then looked back at her.


".. I know I've sort of fucked everything up, and I know you probably really fucking hate me for being like that, but... I just want us to forget all this... I want us to try and have a good night, because it's all been getting to my head... I've been thinking so much about mom and dad, and I've been worrying way too much about you, and I just feel so inadequate, and I feel like I'm doing a shit job, but... I don't want to give up. I just want to forget for just this one night so that we can sleep a little easier, so we can have some sort of enjoyment other than arguing and crying and worrying about everything constantly, I just... You know." He took a shaky deep breath. "I know how much I've screwed up, but I'm begging you to forgive me here. Please, just come and sit with us... I don't want you there for Connor... I need you there for me." He said, and then blinked a couple of times and quickly wiped his eyes, and then held his arms open in front of her.


".. Please... I'm so sorry." He said. His words were said with every little piece of his broken heart, and on his last words, he had to close his eyes both because he had tears about to burst out of them, and because he was worried that Mia was just going to barge right past him and not say a word. He needed her. He didn't want to do this alone. He just wanted to clear the breeze, and if she walked past him now, she'd be breaking everything - He wouldn't be in the house on the following morning, let's just say that - The look on his face probably said that, and Mia knew how bad he could get. If he got any more crushed now, there'd be know telling what he'd do.


He was at his wit's end.
 
Those few minutes alone on the steps of the vacant but eerie house provided a much needed release from her irked, over-thought stupor. There was a lot going through her mind in terms of Carl, Connor, Jen, missing parents, missing school, and essentially having to remain invisible until..when? 'When' was the big question and what tugged at her the most because everything boiled down to a matter of time. They didn't have a when or a time line, and it frustrated her the most. Once again there was that envy towards Jenna because at least she knew when her father was expected to pass. That luxury, as far from how it sounded good, was not afford to them. They were still in the time and waiting dilemma of 'when' this and 'when' that.


When would they find their parents? When would they be able to show their faces to the general public again? When would they be able to go back to school? When would their lives get back to normal, well as close to normal as possible? There was still a lot more 'when' questions but before she could continue thinking of them, a car pulled up in front of the Parkers' house, parked on the curb, and there was a guy climbing out of the driver's side. He moved to the trunk space of the two door car, pulled the pizza box and soda, and whistled his way up to the gate. Mia ran down to the gate, meeting him there and instead of letting him in, she let herself back out onto the side walk.


The guy was at least eighteen, she could have guessed, and looked like he was completely comfortable as the delivery guy. He started the small talk type conversation first, commenting on the pizza lacking the essentials - meat - and from their they spoke for longer than she expected. She hadn't had a full blown conversation, or even small talk, in awhile; everything said between Carl and herself was business, short, and to the point. Or they were arguing.


The delivery guy and Mia spoke for so long that by the time he got a call on his phone, she assumed to get back to work, he was so rushed that he handed the stuff off, said it was nice talking with her, hopped in his car, and took off. By the time his taillights disappeared down the street and around a corner, she remembered she didn't even pay him or tip him. Maybe he thought the conversation was enough payment. Whatever it was she felt bad enough to call the pizza place back and tell them. So she quietly walked back to the house, was met with Carl - well more stopped by Carl - and before she knew it he'd called Connor to take the box and leave. She already knew he was trying to get a minute with her and what he was going to say in that time.


Before she could tell her brother that she didn't need an apology, he'd already started pouring his heart out and searching for acceptance. "Carl, you don't need to apologize to me....you don't need to keep apologizing to me. I've said this before and I'll say it again that I'm not going to shun you or leave you or whatever else could be worse than any of those because of something you say. I hear a lot of shit on a daily basis that's meant to hurt my feelings or get under my skin, and it doesn't. Besides, you're my brother and I wouldn't turn my back on you just like you wouldn't do it to me. I don't care if you think my diet sucks or I'm too skinny or I'm an asshole for not liking Jen or whatever. I know you're not going to shut me out because of those things. We're twins and we're not the same all over, but as your twin, I'm telling you I'm not going anywhere."


Mia leans forward, pushing Carl's arms out of the way and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Don't worry. Stop saying you're sorry. You're not sorry."
 
He slowly curled his arms around her once her arms went around his neck, and then put his head down on her shoulder. He was relieved that she knew that he wasn't going to turn his back on her, and he was relieved that she'd confirmed she wouldn't turn her back on him. He couldn't stop. He just hugged her so tightly that he felt like he'd never be able to let go of her again. He didn't even want to let her go. He just wanted to hold her close and promise her that things would be okay, that everything was going to turn out just fine and life would go back to normal.


He wasn't going to do that, though. Because he wasn't a liar.


"You don't understand... You have no idea how sorry I am for some of the things I've said and done... I shouldn't have said it, and you should have heard it from your own brother. Look... I'll say this for the both of us - I promise you, right, the only time I'm ever going to comment on your diet or whether or not you skip a meal is when it starts to get noticeably dangerous, okay? I swear, aside from then, I'll accept it - I don't know why I haven't been, I just worry about you too much, that's all. Being the big brother, and all." He joked, and then gave off a quick chuckle. ".. I don't mind if you don't like Jen, I just don't want things to get set on fire between you two, because that would just escalate everything, and I wouldn't want that to happen." He explained, and then rubbed her back for a short while and pulled away from her.


"I would say sorry for always getting angry and upset about things, but... I can't help that, and I know that you'd never let me apologize for that, anyway." He grinned. "I'm not going to leave you either. Ever. We're in this together... We do things together, because that's how it's always been." He smiled, and then stood slightly on the tips of his toes and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.


"Alright. Let's go... Connor's probably died from starvation already." He smirked, and then lead her into the kitchen. Connor was sitting patiently at the table, his legs bouncing uncomfortably under his chair. As soon as he saw Carl and Mia walk in, he hopped up from his chair and then ran straight up to Carl, tugging on his shirt. Carl looked down at the child and then reached down and ruffled his hair - He was starting to wonder why Connor was coming to him to ask all the questions. Probably because he'd sort of spoke to him a little more than Mia had, or maybe Jenna had told him that Carl was her boyfriend, or something. Who knew.


"Carl..." He called.


"Hm?"


"I gotta' go pee... Where's the bathroom?" He asked. Carl looked at Mia and chuckled a little, and then looked back down at him.


"Head out the kitchen, take a right, go up the stairs... When you get upstairs, it's the second door on the left, okay?" He said. He explained the directions slowly so that the boy could grasp them a little easier. Connor was lost in thought for a few seconds, but then nodded.


"Okay, thank you!" He said, and then dashed out of the room and ran upstairs. Still full of energy, sadly. Carl sighed and then walked over to the table, popping open the pizza box and then shoving out a chair from the table for Connor, and then two on the opposite side for himself and Mia. He went to the cupboard, got out three plates, and then went back to the table. He put two plates down - for himself and for Connor - and put the other one to the side of the table, just in case Mia decided that she did want to eat something. He poured two cups of orange soda, and then gave one empty cup to Mia so she could choose whatever drink she wanted.


Yeah, Carl decided that it was time for him to change.


When Connor finally returned after a couple of minutes, his hand a little blue from where the cold water had been against them, he and Carl started tucking into their meal. Connor did inquire about why Mia wasn't eating anything, and Carl simply explained that she wasn't feeling hungry tonight, but she could have some of the pizza if she wanted to. Carl was actually a lot happier, even if Mia was sitting there drinking whatever and not eating anything - for a while, things actually felt normal, because they talked about stuff - Connor asked them what 'big school' was like, and they generally had some nice little conversations, and Connor said some funny (and innocent) stuff that was good enough to have them in tears of laughter. It felt so... Normal. Connor was there talking to them both, Carl and Mia had the chance to just talk about something other than their shit foster home they went to, hiding from the police, or their parents.


It was so easy to see how much it meant to Carl. It was really what he needed.


After dinner, Connor looked like he was about ready to pop. He was still full of energy, though, and he still wanted to do something fun. Once he'd drunk his now third cup of orange soda, he looked acrossed the table at Carl, whom of which was perfectly relaxed and lied back, a gentle smile glued to his face.


"Carl...?"


"Yeah, buddy?"


"Can we make those cookies you made before? I really like 'em." He said. Carl looked at his watch - Seven o'clock. Eh, it wouldn't hurt. He looked at him, smiled, and then looked across at Mia.


"Well... We could, but... Mia... You alright with us doing that if I wash the dishes? Want to supervise me again?" He asked, grinning a little. He needed to try and make Connor tired - a little overly-exicted and energetic five-year-old needed some wearing down, or he'd be up all night, and then Jenna would be angry at Carl for 'letting him' stay up, and then Carl would be even more upset because he'd be exhausted, and Jenna would be pissed at him.


Well, that wouldn't happen. But nonetheless, Connor needed to be worn out.
 
"Its not that I don't like Jen, it's just that you can't..."Mia paused, searching for what she wanted to say, "...you can't force us to be together, I guess is what I'm trying to say. You can't push it on us to interact with one another. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. I don't hate her, Carl. I think she's nice and pretty and stuff. We're not friends is all." Saying it aloud to Carl was easier than she expected and she didn't feel that nervous quiver in her voice like she'd imagined there'd be in telling her brother not to expect his girlfriend and sister to be best friends. In her mind she imagined that Carl would throw a fit or something, be pissed off that his sister wasn't going to be buddies with Jenna, or even try to be sneaky about trying to get the two girls together. She hoped now that she'd laid it on the table that Carl would better understand her position about Jenna; it wasn't positive nor negative, but more neutral.


When she followed Carl into the kitchen, Mia put space between herself and Connor, thinking that maybe she should also explain to Carl that she wasn't particularly fond of small children either. That would clear up to him why she wasn't planning on getting married and having children. Just being around Connor she didn't know what to do with him or what to say to him, and it was a blessing that little boy obviously favored Carl for whatever reasons. She watched within the kitchen towards the dining room area where Carl was trying to explain the way to the bathroom to Connor, and the look on Connor's face the directions. She smiled a little at the boy's confused expression and when he took off, she knew he was going to open every door upstairs until he found the one with a toilet inside.


She watched Carl start setting stuff out on the table, including a third plate and cup, and she quietly walked over to take the cup. In the kitchen she poured water into the cup from an half empty water pitcher on the refrigerator shelf, and made herself comfortable leaned over the counter. She'd watch them from here where she could still see Carl in front of her but Connor's back was to her. Although she kept herself generally out of Connor's view, she still engaged in conversation every now and then, putting her input in where necessary.


Mia was about ready to disappear to her room when she heard something about cookies from Connor, followed by an appeasing response from Carl. "It's whatever you guys want to do." She twisted her wrist up to see the watch's face and the time. Well it wasn't as late as her body felt like it was but she still felt like her eyes were weighing heavy in their sockets and her could consciously feel herself moving slower. Thinking slower and everything. The classic signs that she was creeping up on exhaustion, maybe even extreme exhaustion. The bus ride was barely a nap and she was half asleep for more than half of it. Not to mention a sleepless night before that.


"I'm probably just going to head to bed..." She stifled a yawn into the bend of her arm, reaching up to push stray hairs out of her face after. "Don't burn down the house." She didn't mean to say that in front of Connor, not meaning to scare him or anything, but it was for Carl. An innocent joke but a serious warning. What would be worse than burning the house down in the first place would be having it burn down with Connor inside and them not even supposed to be there. "G'night guys.."


She waved goodnight to Connor, who was all to eager waving at her, and smiled at Carl before making her slow retreat from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into her room.
 
"Goodnight, Mia!" Connor waved to her with a smile. Carl couldn't help but sigh at how spry this child was - He was really going to be hard to make tired. Before they did anything, though, Carl decided that he was going to say goodnight to Mia after the evening was actually quite pleasant - He knew that she found at least some of the things Connor had said quite funny, if not all of them, but he could sort of see her discomfort - If she didn't want to get married or have kids, that was fine. It wasn't really his business, anyway, and knowing Carl, he'd end up having children long before Mia did, but you never know - With time comes change, after all. She'd probably get tired of traveling the world alone, and then one day she'd decide that she wants to settle down, if not with a man, then at least with a roommate, or something.


Carl was already picturing his own future, and things looked bright. Or, they felt it, rather. Beautiful wife, nice house in the nice town, two energetic and cute-faced little boys running around, and a good career. That's all he really wanted from life, but he wanted to do many other things - He wouldn't leave Mia out, of course. If she ever wanted to stay the night if she felt lonely, or something, he'd make sure that she was welcome. She might not be good with kids, but... If Carl ever had them, she wouldn't exactly be able to blank them and act like they didn't exist.


In Carl's mind, kids were just amazing little people. They could be hard work, but they were some of the only real people out there - They were innocent, didn't have a care in the world (most the time), and didn't have all the problems that people older than them had. He sort of envied them for that, but it was just a part of growing up.


"Goodnight, sis." Carl walked up to her and gave her a hug. "Thanks for sitting there with us tonight." He whispered into her ear, gave her a little squeeze, and then released her. "Sleep well." He added, and then went and collected the plates from the table and started washing them, as well as throwing away the disposable plastic cups. He pulled a chair over for Connor to stand on by the counter, and then got out everything that they needed to make cookies. Of course, he was following the recipe in the book again, just in case something fucked up beyond repair. He was letting Connor do a lot of it, though. He was letting him measure the flour, he was letting him mix all of the ingredients together, and he even promised him that he could put the little blobs of dough onto the baking tray.


Little Connor was having a whale of a time, though - Carl feared that Mia was going to be kept awake by how much Connor was shouting and laughing with every wrong move that he made, or every time that he got a dash of flour on his hand or arm. Oh well, as long as he was happy, and as long as he wasn't going to keep them up all night, it wouldn't be a problem, would it? Who knew, but it was going well. Connor was enjoying himself, talking to good old Carl and having a good time making the cookies that he accordingly loved so much the last time Carl made them. Connor was definitely an interesting kid, though. Sure, sometimes he could be typical of someone his age in terms of behavior, but he was just different. He was polite, he was funny, he knew how to make someone feel better without even trying - It was a good thing to see, and this boy that had nothing more than almost six years of life experience was making Carl's night all the more better and enjoyable, and that was something that he appreciated.


And then the cookies went in the oven. Connor offered to help clean up, which surprised Carl quite a lot. Carl was doing the washing, and Connor was doing the drying - They made a good little team, and by the time they were done cleaning up all the mess that had been made, the cookies were actually almost done, and hopefully Mia had finally been able to get to sleep. Carl went and watched TV with Connor for a little while, and he noticed that Connor was actually leaning against him. Just lying there. Hm... He found this sort of odd. I mean, it was normal, right? He'd gotten a bit of an attachment to Carl. So what? He felt a bit uncomfortable with it, though - he didn't mind looking after him, but this affection made so many things go through his head.


Finally, they got the cookies out, let them cool for ten minutes, and Carl gave him a glass of milk with four cookies, which he managed to finish off in just a few minutes. He was covered in flour and dried dough, and then he requested something that made Carl feel even more uncomfortable.


"I wanna' have a bath."


Okay, Carl. It's fine.





He took him to the main bathroom, but before he could even do that, he heard a knock at the door. It was only just gone eight o'clock, and when he got there, it was Jenna. She had Connor's little dark blue backpack - She gave Carl a kiss, the bag, and then instantly turned around to head home. The bathtime felt a little awkward, seeing as he'd now seen Jen's brother naked (not something you'd really want your boyfriend to see, is it?), and he had to sit there and watch him on his request, but Connor kept up the conversation, and then wanted help washing his hair - Carl was starting to regret even agreeing, but it didn't end there - He had to help him out of the bath, dry him off, help him into his PJ's, and then, just as he thought he'd be able to get him to go to bed in the guest bedroom...


He started crying.


No.


No.


NO.





Great. He had to let him sleep in his bed tonight - At least Carl had a double bed. They were watching TV for about an hour, but then Connor rolled over and snuggled up to him - Carl bit his bottom lip and just closed his eyes. This night would be over soon. He didn't get why he felt uncomfortable, but... Y'know. It's not like this was anything weird, it was just... different. Carl was awake for another hour, though.


He could hear voices, he was sure of it.


The anxious feeling he got in his room was horrifically strong.


The voices were talking to him, calling him.


'Carl! Carl!'





Couldn't Connor hear it? Obviously not. Carl had to put on some music on his iPod and plug his earphones in to block it out. It worked, and he fell asleep.


Was he going insane?
 
It took a long time before even the first sensations of sleep hit Mia although she was, in her mind, comfortably laid in bed as so to facilitate the sleeping process to go faster. Her pillow was under her head as it normally was, folded and tucked; the blanket was half over her body, the edge under where she rested her arm against her side. She'd taken more than fifty deep breaths to calm and relax herself, counted nearly two hundred sheep until she'd begun to actually lose count, and turned the heat down in the room and opened a window to make it cooler. What else was keeping her from sleeping?


At some point she got up to go to her bathroom, hearing that Carl and Connor were still awake and having a blast in another bathroom. He must be giving the little guy a bath but what was he going to wear after? She still sat on the toilet long after she'd done her business and just..looked around. It was nice and all being back in her regular, personal bathroom but she felt out of place in it at the same time; and she suspected she was just getting used to foreign places to call home for a night, specifically the hotels. They'd only been in two of them since they left home but already she was looking at her bathroom and seeing the walls of a hotel bathroom take over her vision. Botched paint jobs or wallpaper too painful to look at, all aluminum counter tops and floors, scratchy carpet, hard mattress, and strange smells. All of that she was just getting used to and now here she was back in a plush environment, sanitary and trustworthy.


When her legs began to tingle she knew it was time to get off the porcelain throne, wash her hands, and get back in bed. There were no more noises coming from the other bathroom and it was safe to assume they'd finished bath time and were on their way to bed. She'd also noticed there wasn't the foul smell of burnt something, so she made a personal note to congratulate Carl on not burning the cookies and closed her door.


-----


When she assumed it was morning - or rather pulled the pillow off her face to see a bright, yellow streak of light stretching across the room - she groaned lowly and leaned up on her elbows. "Christ..." She complained to herself, looking left and right several times before remembering her usual time keeping device was still strapped to her wrist. Nine in the morning. When had she ever slept until nine? What time did she fall asleep, anyways? Mia laid in the bed, propped on her elbows, trying to remember what time she went to bed. Hmm, last time she looked at her watch it was...four in the morning. She vaguely remember reading a book, listening to her music, and tossing and turning until at some point she fell to sleep. That now explained thinking she'd slept so late, and now she knew it was simply that she hadn't slept late but fell asleep late.


Mia scooted towards the headboard of the bed, sitting up and leaning her back against the headboard's cushion. Again her head swiveled around, feeling dazed for some reason and like she had something she'd forgotten to do. There was nothing to do. They had to lay low, stay hidden, and that was all.


On that thought she took up her original position laid in the bed, pulled an unused pillow over her face to keep the increasingly bright sunlight out, and waited for sleep to come back to her.
 
Carl awoke, his eyes wide. He was staring right up at the ceiling in horror. His iPod was still almost on full battery, and the music was still quietly playing - the headphone wire was casually wrapped around his face and his neck, so he quickly plucked that off and turned the music device off, and then placed it down on his nightstand. He was lost in the sensation that none of what was going on was actually real. It was all a big dream. Nothing had actually happened, they were just in a little dream world, they were going to wake up to find Missus Greene downstairs cooking breakfast, and mom and dad would be up working, as per usual - Soon, mom would come in and shout at Carl to wake him up for school and find out that--


Oh, fuck. He looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was 9:10.


This was all real.


"Shit..." He whispered, but his heart stopped. What if Connor was awake right beside him and heard him say that? He rolled over and... He was gone? Okay. He assumed that he was... He didn't even know. He assumed he was downstairs - No. Maybe he was in the bathroom? No. He woke up Mia after failing to wake up Carl, and then got her to take him to get a drink - Maybe Jenna had already come by and picked him up. But without saying hello and goodbye to Mia and Carl? Did she just let herself in?


Oh, for fuck's sake, Carl. Just get your ass out of bed. You need to pee, anyway.





Of course he needed to pee. He needed to pee every morning. It was routine. He really wanted to go back to school, though - His brain felt dead. He needed to show that he was smart again - He couldn't blame Mia for wanting to do her homework, to be honest. Even he was tempted to finish off his biology homework just to refresh his memory - He walked to the bathroom door and pushed through it; he was about to walk straight to the toilet, but, it turned out that he'd found Connor. He was just sitting there, his PJ pants around his ankles. Carl's face went red, but Connor just turned and looked at the abrupt entrance (he was a little shocked at first), and then smiled at him.


"Hi, Carl." He said, simply.


Carl was speechless. He felt like someone had put his tongue in a vice - Did Connor actually think it was normal for his sister's boyfriend to see him taking a shit, or something?


"Uh... I'm--.. I'm so sorry for walking in, dude... I'll go use the other bathroom, okay?" He quickly retreated out of the bathroom and closed the door, and then went out of his bedroom and to the main bathroom of the house. He went inside, locked the door, and then got on with hid business while doing his best to calm down. Honestly, he was humiliated - What the hell would he do if he told Jenna that he walked in on him? Let's not lie, right, in Kindergarten (Connor's age), that sort of thing was normal. In fact, Carl remembered the eventful times when he had to poop in school when he was in Kindergarten, and he'd occasionally get someone peeping under the stall at him - Back then, you didn't care. You thought it was funny. But to have a fourteen-year-old walk in on you was a bit different... Right?


Carl. You're over-thinking it. Stop.





Okay.


Once he was done, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands, and then made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Still no signs of life, but it was a nice warm and humid morning - He was hoping that Connor wouldn't say anything about what just happened to anyone, and for some reason, he was scared to even think about what just went on. To take his mind off of it, Carl went and got a glass of orange juice - Not coffee, would you believe it. He didn't know why he didn't go for coffee.


On the upside, that situation could have been much worse.


Connor could have heard the voices.
 
Today might be the day Mia Jackson stays in bed past the morning, through the afternoon, and into the night. Hell, she'd be in bed so long she might fall back asleep without her legs even making it over the edge of the bed and her feet touching the floor. There was something inviting about staying half covered by the comforter, head rested against the mattress under a pillow, and generally just letting her body sink deeper into the swallows of the mattress with each passing moment. Ah..this was nice.


Another deep breath, and she lifted the pillow enough to see the interior of the room. Sunlight was still pouring through a split into her curtains and the little sliver that got in was bright enough to illuminate the entirety of the room. It was strange she was still expecting to wake up, look around, and see the decor of a hotel room; not the regular items of her own personal bedroom, which she now finally looked at since coming back home last night.


On the floor there was a schoolbag she'd stopped using a few months ago because it had ripped but never stitched or even considered throwing out. The bag, she'd had since..forever, and could only bring herself to neglect it as far as setting it on the floor and leaning it against the wall. The color was faded, the straps were worn, and for some reason, she felt an anxious stiffening in her spine looking at it. Carl had a backpack similar, the same color almost, and the memory behind it was vivid; when they picked them, they picked the same color and Father suggested two different shades of red. Mia got a pink and Carl got red, and now they didn't even use the bags; Mia had a purple bag and Carl's was black.


On the walls, there were unevenly and erratically placed posters with innocent representations; funny cat poster, dog poster, a few posters from magazines, and some thing she'd mad when she was younger and kept.


On top of her desk there was her lap top, half open and humming to signal it was still on. Funny, she'd thought she'd turned that off. Rolling onto her side, slowing propping up on her left arm, and waiting for an nauseous wave to pass, Mia blew out an exaggerated breath and continued looking indolently around the room through stray strands of her hair that were hanging in front of her eyes. The next sharp breath she blew out was angled up and strong enough to force the stray strands of hair to fly out of her eyes long enough her her free hand to wipe the hair back in place on her head.


It was quiet in room, and more or less quiet outside in the hallway. There was a pronounced but light set of steps passing her door, and she assumed it must be Connor. Carl's foot steps were heavy in the morning, so heavy that she should feel the vibrations of him walking through her shoes in the morning. Connor was only five so he was light and with how quick those feet were moving - he was awake and already teeming with energy.


Mia expected to wake up this mornin - shower, brush her hair, wipe her face - and look at Connor with a different perspective, finding herself actually fond of the child; but she cringed slightly in hearing his footsteps and leaned up back down lay in bed again. She felt like...a bitch for feeling indifferent towards Connor and felt like she was letting Carl down by not liking the kid.
 
Carl was still downstairs, his head rested on the table beside a still full glass of orange juice. He felt really sick all of a sudden, and he didn't know why. He was trying to think of so many things. The cookies he ate last night with Connor were just fine, and so was the milk. Let's face it, if the milk wasn't okay, Connor would have woken up during the night and barfed all over Carl, his bed, and himself. That would have really sucked, so Carl brushed that thought aside and continued to think about the thing that was much more horrifying than having a five-year-old throw up on you.


The voices.


He had so many questions that were bouncing around his head, right up to the point that he heard a toilet flush upstairs. He assumed that Connor was done, and he was just praying that he'd get distracted by something else before he came down here. Carl was in no mood to be dealing with him right now - I don't mean that in a bad way, because personally, he loved the kid to pieces. He thought it was great when he was spending time with him, and Connor was a Saint to him right up until the point that he started crying at bedtime.


Carl could understand that, though - He was five years old, in a completely new house with two completely new people. It wasn't the same as a sleepover, and he simply got nervous and upset about being alone in a room without any nightlights. I suppose Carl sort of predicted that wrong - Carl was just glad that he managed to stop him from crying by taking him to his room; he made him go brush his teeth in his personal bathroom, and then got him nice and tucked up into bed. They watched an old Disney movie that Carl had tucked away somewhere, and Connor loved it. It was a good night, all in all.


But what about the voices?





The voices were calling out the same thing. Just his name. Carl! Carl! Carl... Carl...





They weren't loud, and it didn't sound like someone was whispering in his ear. It just felt like he'd been listening to someone whisper from across the room, and honestly, when that happened, he treated Connor as his little personal teddy bear and kept his arms around him. Why he was finding safety in some little boy that he'd only just met and was probably more scared of things than he was, he didn't know, but it helped to just hug him and listen to music on his iPod until he fell asleep. Connor had never complained of noises or voices, so maybe it was just a figment of his imagination? No. No, it was real, it must have been. If he covered his ears, he couldn't hear it anymore. It wasn't his imagination, no way.


Sometimes, hearing whispers when you're drifting off to sleep is a hallucination.


But he heard it continuously.


He was wide awake.


Connor was actually right outside Mia's door. He heard noises from inside, and he could only assume that she was awake. He thought that it'd be nice to pop his head in and say hello, but he'd learned that it was polite to knock first. He gently tapped on the door, and when there were no screams to show that she was naked and didn't want anyone to come in, he gently creaked the door open and poked his head in through the open gap.


"Good morning, Mia..." He smiled shyly at her. ".. Did you sleep good?" He asked, simply, his little cute and shy smile remaining stuck to his face. He was just trying to be friendly, seeing as Mia and Carl had been good to him since yesterday.
 
Is that...Connor? Christ, he sounds like Carl when he was that age, and she only knew that from videos their parents had taken from when they were younger. That sounds prepubescent, chiming tone that was always chipper and escalated, no matter what. If he were tired, angry, happy, annoyed...anything. The voice was always high, happy-to-see-you, and fit his body.


Besides the fact that Connor mirrored Carl in that way, there was the realization that Connor was in her room. She was sure she hadn't drifted back to sleep just yet and hopefully she wasn't experiencing some freaking inception, dream in a dream type situation. To clarify if that was the reality she lifted her arm from its position draped over her arms, turned her head enough to look in the direction she'd heard the voice, and force her eyes open to take in the scene: there he was, Connor in his pajamas with a smile so big on his face that where he was missing teeth in the back of his mouth were visible. He was pinching the side of his pants in a nervous fashion and twisting his torso, still holding that same smile that was taking up more than half the space on his face.


Wow. There here was standing at her bedside smelling like he'd either used too much of the coconut hand soap in the bathrooms or bathed in it.


Mia rolled away from Connor, nonchalantly sitting up and unfolding her legs of the opposite side of the bed. She mouthed 'what the fuck?' to herself, still trying to figure out how and why Connor was in her room, and more importantly trying to figure out where was Carl. Connor was supposed to be attached to the hip with Carl. Sitting on the edge of the bed, letting her eyes adjust on the less lit side of the room, she could hear Connor's anxious footsteps come close again; and there he was again, standing against her thigh and staring at up her face. His smile was gone, his bottom lip was between his teeth, and his massive childish eyes were staring into the pores of her skin.


"Hi, Connor." Mia finally returned his greeting from earlier, watching as he hopped once...twice, and smiled huge again.


"Hi, Mia." He returned, his voice still clear and high.


"Hi, Connor.." She quietly responded, stifling a yawn into her shoulder.


"Hi, Mia." Again with the smile. Again with the hopping, twirling, and excited movements.


"H- Mmm..." Mia paused, not wanting to fall into that age old childish game of parrot with Connor, and instead left her bed and stiffly walked to her bathroom. She didn't manage to get that personal morning hygiene she normally got and ended up brushing her teeth, brushing her hair, and washing her face with Connor standing right beside her, watching her every move. He commented once or twice about each thing she did, putting in his input on how Jenna does it or how he would do it if he had to do it.


Mia suffered through his constant talking with her own silence, even keeping quiet as she left her room, sauntered down the steps, and into the kitchen - Connor right on her heels, chattering away about something she wasn't even interested in. He was talking about a boy in his class eating a glue and paper sandwich while Mia stood in the fridge, staring at the shelves.
 
Connor didn't really feel that he was getting anywhere with Mia, and he didn't know why he thought that. Of course he didn't. He was only five years old - How was he meant to know the reasoning behind not getting to someone properly, exactly? Once they reached the kitchen, Connor looked around while he spoke about all of the random stuff that happened in Kindergarten, and Carl slowly lifted his head up from the table and looked off at them both. He couldn't help but feel sorry for Connor. He was making all this effort to talk to Mia, and Mia didn't even seem to be giving him the time of day.


Connor gently nudged in front of Mia and reached up into the fridge, pulling out a plate covered by saran wrap. He stood on the tips of his toes and put it on the kitchen counter, and then reached up and pulled the saran wrap off of it. There were cookies there - They looked a little better than the last time Carl had made them, and Connor instantly took one. There were five left after he ate one, and while there were crumbs bouncing down his chin, he shoved the plate towards her and pulled on her arm to get her to look at them.


"Me and Carl made cookies last night." He grinned. "We saved some for you, and I want you to try one." He said, and then pushed the plate closer to her and ran over to Carl, slapping his leg. Carl looked at him with a smile and turned to face him, but Connor scrambled up onto his lap and then turned to look at Mia again, his arms around Carl's body to stop himself from falling off of his lap. Carl looked at Mia, and then at the cookies, and at Mia again. In all fairness, they were a lot nicer than last time. They tasted better, for sure, and they looked more like cookies rather than shortbread biscuits.


"Yeah, go on, sis... Try one. Connor put a lot of hard work into those. He'd be upset if you didn't try one." Carl said, and Connor simply nodded in agreement. Carl frantically nodded at her to pretty much silently beg her to just eat one of them, just so Connor wouldn't end up bawling his eyes out. There was honestly too much on his mind to even deal with a crying child.


And then Connor was sitting there on his lap with the same look, the big, wide, glistening, and expectant eyes, following her every movement. If she did so much as move close to the cookies, his grip around Carl's body got tighter, and his grin got a little bigger each time. Come on, Mia... Don't upset the kid now.
 
Carl and Connor both have these looks on their faces that are practically picking up a cookie, putting it into Mia's mouth, and moving her jaw to chew it. The look was inescapable and she stood leaned against the counter, hovering over the plate of cold cookies, switching between the pair at the table and the cookies on the counter. Another look at the platter of cookies and the little chocolate chips inside were staring at her as well, begging to be warmed up, split into pieces, and consumed. No, cookies...


"The cookies look good, guys." Mia managed to squeak out despite the overwhelming moisture building up in her mouth and the nearly painful cramping in her stomach. It felt like her organs were shriveling up and her stomach was swelling despite being empty.


Connor's eyes were huge and encouraging as she leaned forward on Carl's lap to rest his elbows on the table and then rest his face in the cup his hands formed. Mia sighed, hovering her hand over the plate, and finally picking the smallest cookie from the smalle pile. "I'll try one." She smiled small, bringing the cookie up to her mouth and taking an equally small bite of the edge. Connor must not have had an expectation of how much Mia had to eat of the cookie and even with how small a bite she took, he celebrated with an applause and a shrilling laugh.


The cookie was good but it honestly would have tasted better fresh or just warmed up, but without complaining, the rest of the small cookie was patiently finished. Inside Mia could feel her stomach eagerly accepting the first thing to be put in it since yesterday at breakfast, over twenty four hours ago.Temptation to take another cookie was hard to resist but she folded the plastic back over the plate, replaced it in the fridge, and went for the pitcher of water instead.


"What'd you eat for breakfast?" Mia started quietly, pouring water into her cup from last night, taking a long drink, and pouring again. She'd only deemed it necessary to ask because not only was there nothing out as if Carl intended to cook, but Connor should have been sat at the table eating a bowl of cereal or something. Instead the child had eaten a cookie for breakfast - first meal of the day, most important one - and now she suspected they'd be in for a rude awakening if Jenna didn't come get Connor soon. Having a cookie in the morning was comparable to having a scoop of sugar.


Connor was already smiling as a reflection of his building energy and was moving faster than Mia remembered five year olds did in the morning. Probably when they were younger they moved like lightening, too, but they also never had sugar in the morning. So she didn't know what was faster than lightening - sound? Speed of light? Whatever it was, Connor was going to be taking the stairs three at a time.
 
Carl mouthed the words 'thank you' to Mia, all while Connor was busy clapping and grinning. Connor quickly turned away from the table and looked at him, a massive smile slapped across his face as he tugged on the t-shirt that he was wearing. Carl rolled his eyes and reached up and ruffled the boy's hair, and was about to ask him what had him so happy, but Connor had already talking, and he was going a mile a minute.


"She liked them, Carl! Mia liked the cookies I made!" He grinned, bouncing up and down on Carl's lap - Every time that Connor came back down from one bounce, Carl felt a little bit of life being forced out of his legs, and he had to do his best not to shout at him and tell him to stop moving; he just put an arm over his shoulders to hold him in place, and then nodded at him and ruffled his hair again with his free hand. God, he was really going to regret letting Connor eat that cookie, wasn't he?


"She sure did, buddy... Calm down, alright? What do you want for breakfast?" He asked, Connor spun around to face Mia again but furrowed his brow in thought. Soon enough, though, his grin returned to his face and he slapped both of his knees with his hands as he made his decision and called it out to Mia.


"I wanna' have cereal, but I wanna' have the nice cereal that's all chocolaty and stuff. Or... Lucky Charms! I love Lucky Charms." He grinned. Carl found himself chuckling once again at how spry the child was; he ruffled his hair again and peered over the top of his head.


"You heard the boy, Mia... He'll have a bowl of cereal. You should have some, too. Have some cereal with fruit, or something." He smiled thoughtfully at her. He was still on the mindset that he wasn't going to force her to eat stuff, so he thought that maybe combining some of the healthy cereal they had with her fruit would be a nice little combination for her to try out with a dash of milk. It couldn't hurt, right? "That means you, big man..." He said to Connor, jabbing him in the side with two fingers, resulting in Connor squirming and going off into a flurry of laughter. ".. Need to go and sit on your own chair." He said, and then Connor jumped up without hesitation and hopped up onto a chair opposite Carl - while Mia was preparing the breakfast for them, Connor was just chatting away about random stuff, and how Carl was bigger and stronger than him - He wanted to have an arm wrestle, and every time that he tried it, Carl let Connor get close to winning, and then actually tried and made him lose - It didn't upset him, though. It made him burst out into tears of laughter every time.


And for a while, just for a little.


Carl managed to forget about the voices.
 
Funny, Mia couldn't recall waitress being one of her titles, aside from the apparent babysitting job her brother kind of forced her into last minute. Since Carl had already given Connor the promise that cereal was coming for him - provided by her - and the little boy was already preparing himself. He'd gotten out of Carl's lap, situated himself in his own chair and was sitting on his hands, rocking anxiously left to right. There was still that same massive grin on his face that had actually turned his cheeks a deep pink from the straining of smiling constantly.


In the process of getting Connor a bowl of cereal, the question of when Jenna was coming to get Connor continued popping up in her mind. What reason would Jenna have to leave Connor here longer than she needed to? Whatever arrangement Carl made with Jenna in regards to watching Connor was anonymous to Mia but she'd hoped Carl hadn't agreed to keep Connor for some extended amount of time.


When she finally finished the short - but it seemed longer - steps of getting Connor a bowl of cereal and was stepping away from the counter, Connor was already celebrating at the table. She hadn't even made it out of the kitchen before Connor was chanting about cereal, fists in the air and legs kicking wildly under the table. Before the bowl was even sat on the table in front of him, he'd scooted to the edge of his seat and reached for the spoon in her hand; he'd grabbed for the bowl, pulled it as close to him as he could without it falling off the edge, and started dunking the spoon into the bowl. Little pieces of cereal escaped the edge of the bowl to the table but Connor kept dipping his spoon in and out, finally settling for a spoonful.


Back in the kitchen and leaned against the counter closest to the kitchen table, Mia curiously watched Connor's process - dip the spoon, sit, take a spoonful, only eat a little of that spoonful, put the spoon back in, and repeat. Honestly the process was kind of painful to watch since Connor was taking longer than usual - well, just longer than she'd normally thought it took - to make it through a small bowl of cereal; and he'd spent half his time drowning the spoon, separating the marshmallows, and watching pieces of cereal float in the discolored milk. Anyone else would have finished that bowl of cereal in maybe five or ten minutes, yet Connor was taking twenty minutes alone just deciding which spoonful of cereal he wanted to take more than a nibble off of.


"Did you ever get on Dad's computer?" The silence - other than listening to Connor's spoon click against the bowl and his slurping - was broken by Mia's question. Although it was directed at Carl she was still watching Connor treat his cereal tenderly and his feet slowly alternate kicking under the table.
 
Carl watched Connor eat the cereal rather oddly, but he just viewed that as the most innocent thing ever. He loved watching it, for some reason, he thought that it was great, just as much as it was annoying. While he was eating, he reached over and gently ruffled his hair, and got a big cheesy grin back from Connor which only made him chuckle a little. After that, he just lied back in his chair and sat there, occasionally glancing back at Connor, but primarily, he just stared around a random area. He looked over at Mia a couple of times, but then something sprung into his mind, which is when he shot his eyes straight back to the little boy sat opposite him.


"Connor... What do you say to Mia for getting you that cereal?" He asked. Connor looked up at him for a moment, seemingly a little puzzled whilst he slurped some milk and a few off pieces of cereal off of his spoon; suddenly, he came to realization and dropped the spoon back into the bowl, and then turned straight back to Mia.


"Thank you, Mia." Connor's smile faded down into more of a kind and gentle one, and then he turned back and started tucking into his cereal again. Carl had been thinking about Connor for a little while now - He was wondering what made him seem so... I don't know, so easily trusting, so attached. Was he insecure about something? Did he know that something bad was going on in his family, maybe? He didn't know, but how he so easily attached to himself and Mia was something that ticked at Carl's mind.


A lot of kids were friendly and outgoing, but... Connor was too friendly and outgoing.


Ah, well. Whatever made him happy.


Upon hearing Mia's question, Carl simply shook his head and stretched his back. Mia didn't know the password to the computer, dad didn't write it down anywhere, and Carl definitely wasn't going to reveal the password that had been his and dad's secret for a decade now. He'd do it - He'd do the computer as soon as he had the chance to do so. "I haven't, no. If you'd like, you can sit with Connor, you know, find some stuff to do... If you'd like to do that for a little while, I can get to work - Or we can wait until Connor goes home. Up to you." He said, simply. Connor looked up at him momentarily when Carl spoke of him going home, but he just simply smiled and then looked back down at the bowl.
 
Ugh. There were all kinds of dread on Mia's face while she avoided complaining about having to watch Connor alone. That was supposed to be Carl's job, right? When was Jenna going to come and get Connor? It was creeping up on noon - actually, less than an hour away from noon itself - and still no phone call or anything from Jenna. Outside through the slits of the blinds over the window by the kitchen table there was action - people nonchalantly walking the cul de sac, kids chalking up the street, person cutting their grass, and a car that apparently just learned this was a dead end and doing a U-turn out of the cul de sac.


It's strange.


Life is still happening outside the house and those people out there, enjoying their day, don't know that inside some of these house they're passing that something is wrong. People are missing from nearly each of these houses, some of them completely empty. Mourning is happening in most of these houses because the people left behind don't know what to think, so they grieve for the possibly dead. Marcus's house still looks empty, and it's safe to assume that if they were taken into foster care, then Marcus was taken away, as well.


Mia squinted and leaned forward on the counter, watching two women slow down to a complete stop in front of Marcus's house. They lingered side by side for longer than a quick look's time, and eventually stepped through the short front yard to the porch. One woman stepped up and stood at the front door; and she assumed the woman was knocking or ringing the door bell. The other woman angled herself enough to look out towards the street, inspect the empty drive way, and then her head titled up towards the house. Both women stood there for a moment longer before turning away to leave, probably finding the lack of life in the house a sign to go away.


Outside, it looked beautiful and yet here they all were inside, hiding. Well, not Connor but he was as much in hiding right now as they were. Even playing in the back yard posed its risks because if anyone saw even Connor, whoever it was would likely come over here to investigate or call the police outright.


Sucking in a deep breath and exaggeratedly blowing it out, she lifted from practically laying on the counter and clapped her hands once together. "Right. When is Jenna coming? Did you call her?" The intention behind the question wasn't to be taken as a rush to Carl to get rid of Connor, but after thinking about someone possibly coming over to investigate people in the house, she felt better if Connor was gone.


Looking at him now she could tell he was getting antsy, maybe missing his sister or wondering where she was, too. Connor's head switched between Carl and Mia, his hand holding his spoon and letting milk slowly escape back into the bowl.
 
"I haven't called her yet." He said. "Connor... I'm going to call your sister soon so that you can go home, okay?" He said, and Connor didn't really say anything. He just continued to eat his cereal, and slowly drink the milk bit by bit off of his spoon. Carl saw this as quite odd, actually, he didn't know why he'd suddenly taken a turn to be all quiet and reserved - Carl had known the kid for a little less than 24 hours, and he already knew that this wasn't his personality or the sort of person that he was. He stood up slowly, and then went over to Connor's side of the table and crouched down beside his chair; he tilted his head and gave him a little bit of a worried look.


".. You okay, buddy...?" He asked. Connor simply nodded. Carl wasn't convinced by that one bit. "You sure...? You don't look too happy." He said. Connor slowly turned and looked at him, and then hopped up from his seat and hugged him, his head rested on Carl's shoulder. Carl was actually taken aback by this, but he returned the hug wholeheartedly and embraced him with both arms. He didn't know what had made Connor act like this all of a sudden, but it was starting to worry him.


".. I need to go to the bathroom again." He whimpered into his ear. He could hear from how high-pitched his voice had gone that he was trying his hardest not to break down into tears. Carl slowly pulled away from him and gently rubbed his shoulders.


"Go ahead then, buddy... You know where the bathrooms in this house are. I'll wait right here for you, okay?" He smiled at him. Connor nodded sheepishly and made a quick turn out of the room and shot off upstairs, and soon a door was heard slamming shut. Carl retreated back to his seat at the table and shook his head, followed by rubbing his head with his hands. He didn't know what had come over Connor all of a sudden - He just hoped that he wasn't going to start panicking about his sister not coming to get him, or something stupid like that. He wanted to know what was wrong with him, and as soon as possible.


Sadly, he was going to find out not too long after the toilet flushed. He just prayed that something hadn't made him sick - Maybe the 'going to the bathroom' thing was just a way to get away from them both so he could think about something? So he could sit and sob and cry to himself for a little while because he didn't want to rely on strangers to support him? He wasn't sure, but as soon as he saw Connor's little tear-soaked face appear in the doorway of the kitchen, he knew that something was wrong. Connor wandered in, his hands laced together in front of his mouth.


"Aw... Connor, what's wrong?" He asked.


Connor looked at him. ".. I'm worried about my daddy." He whimpered, and then just broke out into cries. Carl's jaw dropped just a little, and as a natural reaction, he shot a bit of a panicked look up at Mia - He didn't have time to think, though, seeing as Connor came running right at him - He reached down and sweep him up and sat him down sideways on his lap. He wanted to get that work on the computer done as soon as he could, but at this rate, things weren't going to be happening too soon - Oh well, hopefully they'd be here for a couple more days, so even if he couldn't make much progress today,


"Hey, hey..." He put his arms around him and started to rub his back. "It's okay, buddy... It's okay..." He gulped a couple of times and then leaned his head down to set it atop Connor's own. "Yeah... Your daddy's sick, but... You need to talk to him about it when you get home, okay? Don't let it upset you too much, because if you cry, I'll end up crying, and then things will just be a mess, won't they...? You don't want to have everyone crying, right?"


"Nuh-uh..."


"No... Of course you don't." He gently rocked him from side to side. He was trying to think of an activity that Mia could do with him where he'd be focused, and there wouldn't be too much 'come over here and do this' going on all the time. Something simple, something that would keep Carl distracted for a while where the most that would really happen would be a bit of light conversation. ".. Seeing as I've got something to do... Before I call your sister, would you like to..." He took a deep breath and scratched his head. "Would you like to do some drawing with Mia, maybe?" He asked. Drawing. Simple enough. Connor thought about it for a moment and then sniffled and nodded a few times.


"How's that sound, Mia? You think you could take Connor to your room to do some drawing for half an hour or so?" He asked. There was a really pleading look in his eyes - If Mia declined this, then Connor would just start crying again. "If you do, I'll go and call Jen right now and see when she can come and pick him up." He said.
 
The look Carl was giving her from the kitchen table was louder than his words - which she'd stopped listening to at some point while she drifted into deep thought. There was a mixture of emotions, including his eyes begging for something; what was it? She'd heard something about drawing but she didn't catch the rest of it. Whatever he was asking had to have something to do with Connor, who was balled up in his lap and pressed into his chest. It was safe to assume Connor didn't now the extent of his father's sickness and neither did she; was it cancer or something more serious? Any disease or illness with a time stamp on someone's life must be serious, and it was a shame Connor was filled in on the missing pieces of it. Jenna should have told Connor because he had just as much right to know their father's days were numbered and the numbers were getting lower. That the time was coming close; instead here Connor was thinking his father was just sick and not dying.


Jenna should have told Connor. She's still got time to.


Mia could see it in Carl's face that he didn't want her to refuse his offer to Carl, and inside she cursed at him for always inserting her into something with Connor..again. Once again the fact that Connor would be gone soon reinforced her self control and patience, allowing her to nod in compliance. Connor's attention turned toward her at just the right moment, watching her nod in agreement, and he wiggled out of Carl's arms, quietly padded into the kitchen, and stood at least Mia's arm length away. His eyes were red, his nose was puffy, and his cheeks were blown out as he pouted; he had his hands in front of him, scrunching the bottom of his shirt and pulling it.


Connor didn't look at her but when she moved out of the kitchen she could hear him following behind her. Instead of taking him upstairs, Connor was left in the living room while she stole a few pieces of paper from her father's study, a few colored pens, a pencil, and brought it all back. There hadn't been colored pencils or crayons in this house for several years, so Connor would have to make do with what they had.


The boy picked up a blue pen, struggled with the cap until it gave out, and quietly stared at the blank printer paper. Finally his hand met with the paper and he started drawing something. She couldn't tell and didn't hover over his shoulder to find out but turned on the television, picked the love seat furthest from Connor, and stretched out.
 
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