Who? Hemingway, Bumby & Mitchell (AU) Where? Hemingway's apartment When? Yesterday, after their network chat What? Mitchell doing his removal of the dead thing Rating? High for character death Status? Closed, threaded
Everything had changed so quickly. He'd barely come around to the idea that Scott was actually dead, and he didn't really have the time to dwell on it now that Bumby was on the island. He wasn't the best father in the world, but even he was going to draw the line at taking him in to see Scott's dead body. It was a fact of life, it was something that he didn't want to lie about. If Bumby asked about death, he would give him honest answers, but the poor kid was confused enough about the island without instantly showing him a corpse.
So, he waited just outside the apartment. Scott's body was in his bedroom, but Bumby was a little explorer, curious, and he would fuss to look around properly. It was easier to wait where he was. He'd pulled the kids wooly jumper off, leaving him in shorts and a vest. He was standing, holding onto his dad's fingers with one hand. He was a good kid. He rarely cried, he watched what was going on around him, and he asked questions. People were always surprised that Hemingway could easily have him for company while he wrote. Most children his age wouldn't settle for long enough, but Bumby was used to their way of life. It was going to change. Everything would be different now. He'd just have to take it as it came.
"Daddy's friend is coming to meet us. His name is Mitchell. We're going to wait here for him so he doesn't get too lost," he told his child.
"Where's mommy?"
The words hurt, because he didn't know how to explain. There was no way to explain.
"She's not here just now, but I'm here." It seemed to satisfy him well enough for now.