[There were times he'd curled up in small spaces in his foster parents' pod when they and everyone else were out singing. Or, later on, he hid in the hollow of an old tree. Eventually, after he found it, he curled up in the abandoned animal burrow that eventually became the bunker.]
[And then, down in the soil of the hole he excavated, as far from the music as possible, hidden away. He first moved out as a teen, when it was nothing more than a deepening hole in the dark, where he curled up in blankets and soft dirt.]
[He'd had nothing to hold, though, nothing left of his grandmother, not even some kind of facsimile of anything she'd owned or made for him. The only thing he'd managed to grab when the evacuation started was Croco, the stuffed crocodile she had sewn for him, his very favorite stuffy.]
[But on the chaos of the tunnels, he'd dropped Croco, and the doll had been left behind, probably trampled by many feet, or buried by collapsing soil as the shovels and picks came down. Branch been left empty handed on the long trek to where they settled, through snow and desert and dangerous forest, ferried by harried but caring people just trying to mind the orphans so they survived the long journey to a refuge unknown.]
[When Branch sees Lucky, he knows, instantly, that the project he's been working on is a good thing. It may be what he needs to feel safe. And he can do more than gently usher him somewhere. He's already made more for him to hold onto.]
[When he approaches, he does it while small. He can always grow bigger for a hug but it's less intimidating. It means the power differential is in Lucky's favor. Branch hates this kind of vulnerability usually, and his new ability to grow is a shift he's coming to like.]
[But this is something he'll gladly give to make this child feel unthreatened.]
[He talks to him from the doorway, still giving him space. Control.]
no subject
[There were times he'd curled up in small spaces in his foster parents' pod when they and everyone else were out singing. Or, later on, he hid in the hollow of an old tree. Eventually, after he found it, he curled up in the abandoned animal burrow that eventually became the bunker.]
[And then, down in the soil of the hole he excavated, as far from the music as possible, hidden away. He first moved out as a teen, when it was nothing more than a deepening hole in the dark, where he curled up in blankets and soft dirt.]
[He'd had nothing to hold, though, nothing left of his grandmother, not even some kind of facsimile of anything she'd owned or made for him. The only thing he'd managed to grab when the evacuation started was Croco, the stuffed crocodile she had sewn for him, his very favorite stuffy.]
[But on the chaos of the tunnels, he'd dropped Croco, and the doll had been left behind, probably trampled by many feet, or buried by collapsing soil as the shovels and picks came down. Branch been left empty handed on the long trek to where they settled, through snow and desert and dangerous forest, ferried by harried but caring people just trying to mind the orphans so they survived the long journey to a refuge unknown.]
[When Branch sees Lucky, he knows, instantly, that the project he's been working on is a good thing. It may be what he needs to feel safe. And he can do more than gently usher him somewhere. He's already made more for him to hold onto.]
[When he approaches, he does it while small. He can always grow bigger for a hug but it's less intimidating. It means the power differential is in Lucky's favor. Branch hates this kind of vulnerability usually, and his new ability to grow is a shift he's coming to like.]
[But this is something he'll gladly give to make this child feel unthreatened.]
[He talks to him from the doorway, still giving him space. Control.]
Hey. Is it okay if I come over?
[A pause.]
I just...
I want to be here with you. Since you're upset.