Chicago is Burning:
Feb. 23rd, 2023 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAfter last night's events - and Eve's murder, Ben decides to say goodbye to his grandmother as he now feels there's no way at all that he can stay.
Going back home after so long was so much easier than he'd thought it would be. Up the street, take a left, down a block, look both ways because the city bus that has this route speeds because it's always late, and there it was. Match hopped the backyard fence and went to the back door, because front doors were for guests and Jehovah's Witness, and instinctively his hand reached for his keys, but they'd taken them, evidence. Steam puffed out as he stood there dumbly before finally knocking. One soft, before regaining his nerve and repeating the action firmer. Lights flicked on and immediately he flinched before the door opened. “Nôhkow,” he smiled down at her, face tightening as he pushed back the urge to cry. "Ya got old, huh?"
"Is that my nôsisim, back from running at last? Come in child, it's cold out there." Jackie pulled Ben inside, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug. "I've missed you dearly, young man. This house doesn't clean itself, you know." She finally pulled back, smoothing a hand down his hair and clucking her tongue. "You're too thin. I've got leftovers in the fridge, and you, young man, are going to eat at least one full plate before you get any wild ideas about disappearing again."
"'s okay, I don't feel it." He offered distantly, head swimming, brain lagging as he realized this was real. Instead of arguing, trying to push her hands away because he was practically an adult like he'd argued before leaving the house, before everything went sideways, he leaned closer, finally raising his arms to wrap them around her and hug her tightly. "I," with a breath in, he focused on tapering himself, to not spike. "Can't. I gotta... I gotta go back. It's not safe for you, and I'm already gonna be in trouble." He finished, voice dropping to a mumble. Still, he made no attempt to step back.
"Mhm, and I'm going to turn out my own grandson?" Jackie's voice was arch as she addressed her grandson. "I think not. Go grab those two sturdy shopping bags. If you can't stay, you'll at least be taking some things with you." She sure as hell wasn't going to see him as a danger or whatever else some of those nonsense websites and news casts had reported. But she'd trust her grandson to know if it wasn't safe for him here, and do the best she could to keep him safe from afar. "Go on, shoo. Get one of the rain jackets while you're at it, maybe one of your grandpa's old ones you can grow into. A pillow and blanket too."
She gave him a last squeeze before letting him go, gently pushing him in the direction of the hall closet before bustling into the kitchen. What'd she have that could be eaten easily? A mostly full jar of peanut butter with a sleeve of crackers went on the counter, some of that canned chicken she used when she was just prepping for one. Bread would get smashed, but a bottle of water could be refilled in a lot of public places. "Don't forget warm socks!" she called out as the thought occurred to her. "And see if any of the winter boots fit, you're gonna need dry feet!" Condiments? She rifled through the container, sticking some in a baggie. Maybe things would calm down, and Ben would feel safe coming back. She wanted to be optimistic, but given the state of the world... well. Maybe once he grew out of his baby face, if he made it that long. If she did. She pushed those thoughts to the back, unhelpful. Cans of soup were heavy, but maybe one or two, some of those dry ramen packs. Not very nutritious, but they could be eaten dry in a pinch. Same for some beans.
There was no point arguing when she got like this, something he was well aware of, and Match moved to follow her orders, only pausing briefly to kick off his shoes. For a moment he thought about saying something, but stopped himself, opening the door to grab the bags she'd specified and the old jacket, checking the repaired hem before pulling it on. It wasn't as if he was bound to get too hot. Slipping past her, he moved to the linen closet, still fully stocked even though it was almost two years now, and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket that would fit in the one of the bags, leaving a bit of room. When Ben returned to the kitchen, he focused on putting the items she'd put out into the open space. The silence continued to stretch, and he reached out to give one of her elbows a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay." He offered softly, smiling a fraction as if that would make it true.
Which, of course, is when the siren rung outside, lights flashing through the living room windows into the interior, and the megaphone crackled to life. "Ben Hammil, come out with your hands up, we have the house surrounded." And all the heat that the boy had been carefully controlling sparked from his fingers, going cold for the first time since he'd manifested as fire licked off of him and lit the linoleum countertop he bumped into, spreading quickly.
Going back home after so long was so much easier than he'd thought it would be. Up the street, take a left, down a block, look both ways because the city bus that has this route speeds because it's always late, and there it was. Match hopped the backyard fence and went to the back door, because front doors were for guests and Jehovah's Witness, and instinctively his hand reached for his keys, but they'd taken them, evidence. Steam puffed out as he stood there dumbly before finally knocking. One soft, before regaining his nerve and repeating the action firmer. Lights flicked on and immediately he flinched before the door opened. “Nôhkow,” he smiled down at her, face tightening as he pushed back the urge to cry. "Ya got old, huh?"
"Is that my nôsisim, back from running at last? Come in child, it's cold out there." Jackie pulled Ben inside, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug. "I've missed you dearly, young man. This house doesn't clean itself, you know." She finally pulled back, smoothing a hand down his hair and clucking her tongue. "You're too thin. I've got leftovers in the fridge, and you, young man, are going to eat at least one full plate before you get any wild ideas about disappearing again."
"'s okay, I don't feel it." He offered distantly, head swimming, brain lagging as he realized this was real. Instead of arguing, trying to push her hands away because he was practically an adult like he'd argued before leaving the house, before everything went sideways, he leaned closer, finally raising his arms to wrap them around her and hug her tightly. "I," with a breath in, he focused on tapering himself, to not spike. "Can't. I gotta... I gotta go back. It's not safe for you, and I'm already gonna be in trouble." He finished, voice dropping to a mumble. Still, he made no attempt to step back.
"Mhm, and I'm going to turn out my own grandson?" Jackie's voice was arch as she addressed her grandson. "I think not. Go grab those two sturdy shopping bags. If you can't stay, you'll at least be taking some things with you." She sure as hell wasn't going to see him as a danger or whatever else some of those nonsense websites and news casts had reported. But she'd trust her grandson to know if it wasn't safe for him here, and do the best she could to keep him safe from afar. "Go on, shoo. Get one of the rain jackets while you're at it, maybe one of your grandpa's old ones you can grow into. A pillow and blanket too."
She gave him a last squeeze before letting him go, gently pushing him in the direction of the hall closet before bustling into the kitchen. What'd she have that could be eaten easily? A mostly full jar of peanut butter with a sleeve of crackers went on the counter, some of that canned chicken she used when she was just prepping for one. Bread would get smashed, but a bottle of water could be refilled in a lot of public places. "Don't forget warm socks!" she called out as the thought occurred to her. "And see if any of the winter boots fit, you're gonna need dry feet!" Condiments? She rifled through the container, sticking some in a baggie. Maybe things would calm down, and Ben would feel safe coming back. She wanted to be optimistic, but given the state of the world... well. Maybe once he grew out of his baby face, if he made it that long. If she did. She pushed those thoughts to the back, unhelpful. Cans of soup were heavy, but maybe one or two, some of those dry ramen packs. Not very nutritious, but they could be eaten dry in a pinch. Same for some beans.
There was no point arguing when she got like this, something he was well aware of, and Match moved to follow her orders, only pausing briefly to kick off his shoes. For a moment he thought about saying something, but stopped himself, opening the door to grab the bags she'd specified and the old jacket, checking the repaired hem before pulling it on. It wasn't as if he was bound to get too hot. Slipping past her, he moved to the linen closet, still fully stocked even though it was almost two years now, and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket that would fit in the one of the bags, leaving a bit of room. When Ben returned to the kitchen, he focused on putting the items she'd put out into the open space. The silence continued to stretch, and he reached out to give one of her elbows a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be okay." He offered softly, smiling a fraction as if that would make it true.
Which, of course, is when the siren rung outside, lights flashing through the living room windows into the interior, and the megaphone crackled to life. "Ben Hammil, come out with your hands up, we have the house surrounded." And all the heat that the boy had been carefully controlling sparked from his fingers, going cold for the first time since he'd manifested as fire licked off of him and lit the linoleum countertop he bumped into, spreading quickly.
