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#like i wanna write and the muse is booming but i can't decide on one thing
tvrningout-a · 6 months
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hmm how would we feel if i remade
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arianakristine · 4 years
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I've been rereading some RH chapters and I just finished Storm. I can't remember if you've written the actual "moving in" conversation. If not, is it something you'd consider writing?
Title: Sunday Morning BreakfastSummary: Getting Graham used to the routine.Note: RH verse. I think other people have requested this, too, (including you all the way back at Storm!) and I am finally getting around to it :) It;s short, but I am getting the muse back in shape.
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               Grahamclicked across the screen, scrolling through the report. The words were dry andplaced, the investigating officer writing almost as if using canned responsesto each piece of evidence. He growled at the back of his throat, irritated atthe lack of effort that was put into it the first time around.              
               She’djust been a kid. Just a little older than Henry.
               Heglanced up over the hood of his laptop. Henry was on the couch across from him,feet curled up underneath and game controller in hand. His hair was messy, andhe was still in his band t-shirt and pajamas, brow furrowed in concentration.
               Grahamhesitated, rolling the cursor over the words again before glancing up. “Ipromise I’m almost done.”
               Henryhit the pause and gave a half smile. “No rush.” He sat up a bit and eyed him.“What kinda case is it?”
               Grahamrubbed the back of his neck and considered his answer. “About fifteen yearsold. A girl went missing near Julliard and was found near 101st.”
               Henry’sface dimmed a bit before he nodded knowingly. “Oh, so an old homicide?”
               Henodded with a grimace. “And the first guy really didn’t know what he waslooking for,” he grumbled. He sighed heavily and clicked from the initialreport to the witness list.
               “Isthat why you got called in yesterday? Even though there was the storm?” heasked.
               “Exactlywhy,” he said and ran his hand through his hair. He blew out a low breath. “Lazothought she caught something in the photos and wanted back up for interviews.But it ended up being a dead end. Now I need to comb through it again and seeif I can come up with a few new theories before Monday’s meeting.”
               Henryperked up. “Can I help?”
               Hewinced, already feeling like he would be in trouble with Emma for saying asmuch as he did. “Let’s ask your mom when she gets back.”
               Heslumped against the back of the couch and flicked his game back to active. Hedidn’t even glance up as he responded, “she wanted to ask you something, so I’msure she’ll be back soon.”
               Heraised an eyebrow. “Ah, really? Do you know what that something is?”
               Henry’sface was suddenly impassive, the click on the buttons loud as the TV boomedwith answering explosions. “I have an idea.”
               Grahamsnickered, expecting that the lad had much more than an idea. Emma had beenbrimming with excitement when he showed up for breakfast, though it quicklyturned sour when she’d gotten a call. She had made him promise to work in theliving room until she got back. He also didn’t miss the look shared betweenmother and son, the silent conversation that took place that he only halfcaught on to – the ‘save it’ that was justinterpretable.
               “D’youhave to go out a lot like that? I mean, get called in for stuff even at nightand weekends and stuff?” Henry asked, the sounds of shooting and demons dyingnearly drowning his words.
               Graham highlighteda witness and linked the report, and then nodded absently to Henry’s question.“Not a whole lot, but it’s still part of the job. If I was in a different unit,it’d happen a lot more frequently, but usually we have some more leeway in coldcases.”
               “Well …I guess that’s better,” Henry said at length. “Is it dangerous?”
               Grahamlooked up again. Henry was deliberately not looking at him, though he noticedhis Adam’s apple bobbing. He closed the laptop and set it to the side. “It canbe,” he answered honestly. “But I know how to keep myself safe, too.”
               Henrysighed and paused his game again. He turned in his seat and met his eye. “Iknow. All the guys down at the precinct say you’re good at this.”
               The airwas heavy after he said it, words unspoken that Graham didn’t have to readinto. “It’s easier than having to keep alive in the woods,” he said and crackeda smile.
               Henrydidn’t smile back, and instead slumped back onto the couch. “Graham …,” hetrailed off, collecting his thoughts. “Did—did you—“
               Hewaited calmly as Henry collected his thoughts.
               He blewout a low breath and his green eyes shaded. “Were you in Heaven?”
               Grahamstartled a bit. Oh, that. “I think you’ve been watching too much TV,” he said,a lame attempt at lightening the mood.
               Henrydidn’t fall for it, dark eyes wide and steady on his.
               Herubbed the back of his neck and rose, pacing the length of the couch beforesitting next to him. He stared at his hands a long moment, piecing through hismemories. He didn’t want to give the boy any less than what he really thought.“No, I don’t think so,” he began, squinting as he tried to focus. It felt …hazy. Not like Storybrooke memories, but hazy nonetheless. “I don’t think I wasin the other place, either. But it was dark and cold and … I think I was justwaiting.”
               Henryseemed to think that over. “Maybe because you were meant to come back to us?”he asked hesitantly.
               Grahamwould love to say that was the reason, wanted so much to reassure him withthat. But he had never really thought of himself with a purpose more than a cog.Luck was all he would attribute to what he was allowed to have here. “I don’tknow about that, Henry,” he said finally, and then leaned back against thecushions. “Something must have happened when the spell was cast and undone. ButI just don’t know what that was. What’s harder … I don’t know if we’ll everknow for sure why I’m able to be here with you guys.”
               Henryfrowned, obviously unsatisfied with the answer. “But you’re glad to be here,right?”
               Grahamgrinned, the sudden flood of happiness sharp and poignant. He threw an armaround Henry’s shoulders and squeezed him in. “Absolutely, Henry. I couldn’timagine anywhere better.”
               Henrypeeked up and grinned back, eyes light and happy. “Okay,” he said, and thentossed an arm around to make the hug real. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” hesaid, muffled into his shirt.
               Thedoor creaked and clattered, and Emma bounded in, muttering under her breath.She paused when she saw them and swiped a hand through her messy curls. “Good.You’re here. Now we can get back to breakfast.”
               Henrypopped his head up, beaming. “I’ll get the cocoa!”
               Grahamblinked in bewilderment at the sudden flurry of activity as Emma joined him inthe kitchen. “Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.
               Emmaclattered a pan onto the stovetop and turned with a glint in her eye.“Breakfast.”
               “Thisis our routine!” Henry chimed in from deep in the fridge. He came out with armsladen with eggs and milk and a package of bacon. “Every Sunday we do this,because it’s when we have the most time together.”
               “Suddencall-ins notwithstanding,” Emma said sullenly, then leaned over to kiss herson’s forehead. “We get a big breakfast together, one that’ll last for a couplemeals. Then we pile on the couch and watch a good-bad movie or two, then decidewhat special treat we want during the week.”
               “Specialtreat?” he asked.
               Henrynodded and went back to the fridge. “Since mom works a lot and I get a lot ofhomework, we get to choose one special treat so that we’re sure to do somethingtogether that’s just for fun.”
               “Like alevel of his video game, or a night out to Jacob’s, or the planetarium, or outto a museum,” Emma supplied.
               “Butthat’s not until later, and that always changes. This part is always the sameexcept for the food!” Henry called from the depths of the fridge.
               Grahamgrinned and stood up, brushing off his pants as he approached the counter.“Well, then, can I help? Or would I be breaking the routine?”
               Henrypopped back up with a handful of vegetables. “You can help dice,” he cocked hishead to the side. “I haven’t seen you cook a lot yet, but we gotta find something for you to do every Sunday.”
               “Hey,now, I can cook—“ His eyebrow popped up as the statement hit him, and he lookedover to Emma. She was avoiding his eyes, whisking eggs in a big yellow bowl.“Every Sunday?” he asked.
               Shehuffed a sigh and set down the bowl, and then placed her hands on her hips.“Well, yeah. That is if you wanna stay here.”
               “Huh?”he asked, brows furrowing.
               Henrydropped his elbows on the counter and then placed his chin in his hands. “Wewant to ask you to move in,” he said simply.
               “Move—“he looked sharply to Emma.
               Shegave a half-smirk, and shrugged one shoulder. Emma reached and tugged through Henry’shair anxiously. “The kid and I discussed yesterday. We thought it might beeasier if you didn’t have to go back to an empty apartment at the end of theday. And we kinda like you. It’d be nice to have you here all the time.”
               Grahamopened his mouth, but no words came. He pushed against the counter and pressedhis lips together a moment before responding. “You guys are settled here, Idon’t want to impose—“
               “Whosaid you’re imposing?” Emma said. She pushed the eggs over and glanced at himpointedly. “So long as you help.”
               Helooked over them both, catching the equal amounts of nervous, excited energy.Slowly, a smile began to tweak at his lips, so much that he had no control overit. “You’d want me here?”
               “Weneed to stick together,” Henry replied with a sharp nod.
               Grahamgrabbed the bowl. “Really?”
               “Really,”Henry chirped.
               “Really,”Emma reiterated, then handed him a pepper grinder from beside the burners. “We’reall here for some weird, cosmic reason. I like the idea of being together onpurpose.”
               He lookeddown at the bowl of eggs and carefully began adding the spices. “Well, I guessI should get packing.”
               Henryperked up. “For real?”
               Grahamlaughed, still feeling a little disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with youand your mom?” He ruffled his hair playfully. “I like the idea of beingtogether on purpose, too.”
               “Good,”Emma said, her sparkling eyes betraying the attempt at nonchalance. She movedaround the island and stepped on tiptoes to peck at his lips. “We’ll have youpick the movie, then.”
               If thiswas the reason he was here, he couldn’t say it was a bad one.
               Maybehe’d even eventually believe they were meant for this: together.
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