~!~ cherry chan ~!~ (seresa) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-04-28 21:28:00 |
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"I found everything!" Cherry announced as she stepped across the threshold of Bishop's trailer, her arms laden with -- in her opinion -- enough formula and diapers to feed and clothe fifty babies, let alone the two they were tasked with watching today. "Thank God for the hangars, right?" “And thank God for you!” Bunny chimed in, latching the door behind Cherry again. There had been some supplies in the trailer already, but without knowing how soon Bode would return with Teagan, it put her mind at ease to know they wouldn’t be wanting for anything. “Thank you for coming, and bringing all this along with you.” "Of course. How ever I can help with them, I'm totally glad to do it." Cherry set everything down, then turned to study Jackson and Lincoln with an inexperienced eye. Truth be told, she was a tad bit intimidated by the concept of being left responsible for such a fragile pair, but Bunny seemed capable enough of making sure they'd survive the couple of hours that they'd be left with them. She'd just follow her friend's lead. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was give Bishop something else to worry about in case he came home without Teagan -- which pretty much wasn't even a possibility, as far as Cherry was concerned. "So," she said, picking up one of the containers of formula and turning it around in her hands. "If they're quiet, it means they're not hungry, right?" Cherry paused, then added, "They can open their eyes, right? Or is that dogs who can't open their eyes until they're mature enough to do so?" Coming to stand next to Cherry, Bunny couldn’t help but smile down at the two tiny forms -- a smile which grew with amusement at her friend’s questions. “They can open their eyes,” she confirmed, “but if I’m remembering correctly, their vision isn’t the greatest yet. It’s why they go a little cross-eyed sometimes, because everything is so bright and they’re still getting used to it all.” It had to be confusing, and maybe a little frightening, to come into the world and be so helpless in it. But babies had been doing it for eons, and would hopefully do it for a long time to come. “I could stand here and look at them all day,” she confessed, before turning reluctantly away. “But you’re right -- they’re content for the moment, and it’s best to take advantage of it. Although I’m hoping Bode will be back before too long.” Settling into the closest seat near the babies, Bunny gestured for Cherry to join her. The formula went back onto the counter before Cherry took a seat, her attention half on the babies, half on her friend. "Me, too," she said, biting her lip for a moment as she considered the mystery that had presented itself that morning. "Who knows, maybe he'll come in through that door just a couple of minutes from now." Where the hell could Teagan have gone so soon after the twins' birth, anyway? Cherry had heard all kinds of rumors after the officers had gone to jail, and although the two of them had never seen eye to eye, she liked to think Teagan wasn't that kind of mom. Dwelling on that wouldn't help anyone, though. She pulled all her focus towards Bunny then, her eyes scanning the woman and recalling the almost wistful way she'd mentioned watching the babies just a moment ago. "I'm guessing this isn't your first time babysitting?" “Not by a long shot,” Bunny replied. Though part of her was still turning over the worry about what Bode might or might not find while he was searching for Teagan, it was easy enough to box that away, hidden while she answered Cherry’s question. “It was my regular way of supplementing my allowance before I was old enough to get a part time job. And I used to mind my brother’s kids too. Guess I’ve just always had a way with babies.” Hearing a sound outside the trailer, Bunny paused, her gaze flitting to the door. It wasn’t anything to do with their vigil, though, just one camp resident calling out to another. With a small shrug, she turned back to Cherry. “How about you?” "My brothers had kids, too. The two oldest ones did, anyway. But I was already at college when it happened, so I didn't get to see them much besides when I went home for the holidays." Cherry was sure that if there hadn't been so much familial turbulence, she likely would've had more of an active auntie role in her lives of her nephews and nieces, before said lives had been taken away from them. Nostalgia was too easy a thing to drown in, though, so she put an extra-reassuring smile on her face. Bunny seemed a little anxious -- though really, who didn't, these days? -- and Cherry was nothing if not good at honing in on what a person needed to feel better. "I can never believe it when I think about how you and Bishop used to know each other," she said then, changing the subject to one that was much more favorable to her. The crush she'd once harbored on the man was long gone by this point in time, she thought, but he was still one of her favorite people in the Dog Park. "How long has it been, again?" “Hard to say, since it seems like I've always known Bode,” Bunny replied as Cherry smiled at the use of his real name, a novelty still in her eyes. Bunny's expression softened now, thinking about the sunny, simpler days before the notion of shufflers had ever crossed anyone’s mind. “My brothers were in school with him. His mama set my grandma’s hair every week. Our town was so small, too, and the Coldirons’ moonshine was practically its lifeblood. That, and the mines.” For a moment a faraway look entered her eye as she counted back the years. “I guess I didn’t really start to get to be familiar with him personally, though, until about 2011, when Nate and I got together.” "I'm glad all of you found each other." Cherry couldn't help the wistful tone that creeped into her voice. The only still-living person she knew from before the apocalypse wouldn't talk to her, though she'd tried to reach out. One of the boys let out a sudden squall -- Jackson, Bunny guessed, but she wasn't sure until she rose and went to the crib. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth already working on the air to show he was hungry again. “You want to walk and bounce or warm up the bottle?” she asked, lifting the swaddled newborn into her arms. Though she'd deny it if pressed, Cherry's eyes were wide in dread, wondering if one boy's cries would wake the other up and then suddenly they'd be double teamed by upset babies. "You keep him," she said, not wanting to risk further upsetting him by a transfer from one set of arms into another. She turned to light a fire on the stove underneath a pot of water, willing it to heat up quickly as she scanned the directions for the formula and started to portion it out into a bottle. The baby wasn't wailing his head off, no, but she wasn't sure how long it'd take for him to escalate. And if adult hanger attacks were anything to go by, that switch could happen suddenly. While Cherry dealt with the stove, Bunny went into a routine that was almost second nature. There wasn’t much room to walk around Bode’s trailer, so she settled for rocking from one foot to the other instead, rubbing Jackson’s back and making soothing noises. He didn’t seem inclined to really to wailing yet, although she could feel him rooting against her shoulder. Poor thing needed his mama, but the bottle would do in a pinch. “I was mighty glad to find Bode at the same time I found Nate,” Bunny said, picking up the conversation like they’d never been interrupted. “But I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say that meeting so many new people has been just as much a part of why I like it here in Austin. You and everyone else here have really helped it to feel like home.” Cherry's back was facing Bunny still as she fussed with the bottle, pouring cold water into it and tightening the cap, but it was all the better for her to hide the pleased, embarrassed smile that had appeared at her friend's words. She could still remember how lonely she'd felt in those first few days right after the uprising, once she'd started south on her own. Though she'd thought she'd been lucky enough to find her little traveling group, it'd taken the Dog Park and its people for her to realize that she could have another home again. "You, too," Cherry said, shooting a smaller but no less pleased smile over her shoulder at her friend. The bottle went into the pot to warm in the water, then back out as she handed it over to Bunny. "I'm really glad we met," she added, running her fingertips over Jackson's tiny little arms. "You and him, and his brother, too, but mostly you." It was hard for Cherry to ignore the pang of longing she felt for Mina, though, now that they were reminiscing for friends of old. They hadn't spoken since April Fools on the Freenet, and she wasn't sure if anything would ever happen between them again. She'd probably keep trying, knowing her, but she was near-resigned to the fact that Mina wanted nothing to do with her. She sidestepped around Bunny and Jackson, checking in on Lincoln, and leaned down to adjust his hat. Besides Max, she hadn't talked to anyone else at the Dog Park about Mina, but suddenly she wanted to talk. "I have a friend from before, too," she said, still leaning on the side of the crib. "We went to college together. I don't see her much, though. Or at all. She lives at the Capitol, so…" Cherry shrugged. "It's not going to work out." Shifting Jackson in her arms, Bunny turned the underside of her wrist up to let a drop from the bottle fall onto her bare skin. The formula was body temperature, or maybe a tad warmer -- just right, in other words. She set the nipple at Jackson’s mouth so he could start to eat, smiling softly as he fell into that irregular pattern of suck-swallow-breathe that seemed universal to babies. Only then did she look up at Cherry and pick back up the conversation. “That must be hard.” Bunny gave Cherry a sympathetic look as she crossed over to take a seat again while she fed Jackson. “When Nate and I left the Capitol so suddenly, I lost touch with some friends I had made there. It wasn’t much time to grow connected -- not as close as you were with your friend from before -- but I was still sorry.” Even knowing she’d make the same choice every time, she felt a little pang at the way things had ended up. “But you never know what might be mended. Things can surprise us.” It was just like Bunny to look on the bright side, but this time she had a particular reason for it. “I got a text from one of those friends of mine today. Maybe your friend will come around.” "Who knows." Things between Cherry and Mina had ended on a sort of hopeful note in October, at least -- she liked to think so, anyway -- but the way things had gone down between them, Cherry wasn't sure. Still, as much as she doubted that Bunny's optimism would hold true for herself, she preferred that outlook to the cynicism she felt. It was possible, maybe, that outwardly agreeing with her friend, even if she didn't believe it quite yet, could help. "Maybe things will work out," she said then, talking over the small cries of Lincoln stirring in his crib, following his brother's lead. She bent to pick him up, cradling his small form in her arms, and gave Bunny a small smile. In truth, she wasn't sure what she'd been referring to just then: Teagan's disappearance, Mina, Bunny's friend, or a combination of all three. "We'll just have to wait and see." Jackson stirred as his brother cried, eyes opening again briefly to look around. There was no way to know whether he recognized the sounds as coming from Lincoln, or whether he simply reacted as he would to any sudden noise. Bunny wondered, though, if boys had a connection the way twins sometimes did, or if they could tell when the arms that held them belonged to their parents. “And hope for the best,” Bunny added. She stroked her fingertip along the curve of Jackson’s soft cheek, then looked up to smile at Cherry. “Sounds like a plan.” |