Re: facetime:connie/patrick
[She's talking like it's nothing to worry about, and Patrick has younger-sibling syndrome to the extreme. If she says it's safe, he believes her. It doesn't matter if he's six or sixty.
He bounces the metal ball in his palm a little. The metal is warming against his skin, and he tries to laugh about their childhood being one big joke, but he can't get the sound out.] He wanted us both to be amazing, because he was amazing, and we were his. You are amazing, Con. You always have been. I'm not just saying that because I'm your kid brother, and this is absolutely turning into that uncomfortable coffee commercial. [He turns the thing in his hand.] I'm not like you, or like Adrian, or like Webster or mom. Giving me this thing was never going to change that. [He bounces it a little higher.] It's got good weight. I bet it would make a decent baseball. [He closes his hand over it, like he's going to pitch the thing, but it starts to unfurl in his closed palm, and he immediately opens his fingers.
When it opens this time, one of the panels is raised. it's transparent, almost like glass, but what's on the other side is only reminiscent of a reflection. On the other side of the little panel, is tiny Connie, and she's setting up for a tiny funeral.
DROP. The metal thing gets dropped on the mattress again, and Patrick jumps a good foot away, brave cop that he is.]