"Thanks." Will responded, voice breaking in the middle of the word. The gift had caught him off guard. He had not expected El to understand the concept of friendship to that degree. As she had spent her life deprived of ownership of anything it seemed more likely she would cling to whatever she was given. But perhaps that was a fundamental misunderstanding of her nature. Maybe it was as much like her to share as it was like him to give. Such a simple, painless gesture touched him deeper than it might from another because of its originator. He gazed down at their joined hands then back up at El with a shy tilt of his mouth.
It was clear who had taught her about the mechanics of friendship. No one could have hoped for a better template than Mike Wheeler. Yet El displayed an intuitive kindness at odds with her fierce temper and capacity for violence. Whatever mimicry had been involved in the initial stages of her understanding of friendship it was completely genuine and wholly hers now. The gentle undulations of her movements and softly shining eyes looked natural. This generosity was as much a part of her as rage. Will felt a kinship to that. He too was an amalgamation of pain and love, except his foe was fear rather than anger. They were both trying to be the best of people despite life having given them every reason not to.
A mildly sobered look passed over Will's face and he leaned forward slightly to stare very earnestly into the brown eyes across from him. "You don’t have to share anything, though--- you’re allowed to have things that are just yours. Whatever you're given, whatever you make, whatever you buy. You share when you want someone you care about to have something too. You never owe me anything, okay?” He remained poised close searching El’s gaze for the spark of understanding. Then the smile returned to soften the intensity of his imploring words. “But I’m thankful that you’re sharing. It's like we're friends." He uncurled his fingers under hers to gently rest their open palms together as much as the pile of shells between them would allow. "I'd like to be. If you would, I mean.”