“No,” Finn responds sternly, a determined expression on his face. “No, we can do it. We just need to figure it out.”
There was a single mindedness to his focus, bordering on obsessive. He pauses the scene again, hides the bag in a more esoteric place, one he didn’t remember even using as a kid, up high on a bookshelf.
It only took her a few minutes to find it.
Next he tries the back of the closet, hides some of the other things she needs too. All it accomplished was her getting stern with baby Finn, presumed culprit. Over and over he hid the bag, moved things. Over and over she found it.
Finn wasn’t paying any attention to Jermaine anymore, stalking around the room and looking for ways to outsmart this phantom of their Mom, desperate for a way to make her stay, and avoid the inevitable.
“Something has to work!” he proclaims, exasperatedly, voice high and thin with stress. It wasn’t clear if he even thought this was going to be a solution to their puzzle or whether it was something else entirely. Some other, deeper need that was blinding him. “We can make her stay.”
Reaching out in frustration, he tries to push the younger version of himself. His hand ghosts through the little Finn, and doesn’t cause much more than a momentary confused pause. He felt angry tears in his eyes, and that just made him angrier. All he could seem to affect was himself, and how he felt. And that was getting worse and worse.
“Just, stay!” he shouts at their mom, pushing everything off the table with a crash. He grabs the crossbow, the one she never went on expeditions without, throwing it on the ground and driving his heel into it. It splintered with a loud crack. “Stay here!”
no subject
There was a single mindedness to his focus, bordering on obsessive. He pauses the scene again, hides the bag in a more esoteric place, one he didn’t remember even using as a kid, up high on a bookshelf.
It only took her a few minutes to find it.
Next he tries the back of the closet, hides some of the other things she needs too. All it accomplished was her getting stern with baby Finn, presumed culprit. Over and over he hid the bag, moved things. Over and over she found it.
Finn wasn’t paying any attention to Jermaine anymore, stalking around the room and looking for ways to outsmart this phantom of their Mom, desperate for a way to make her stay, and avoid the inevitable.
“Something has to work!” he proclaims, exasperatedly, voice high and thin with stress. It wasn’t clear if he even thought this was going to be a solution to their puzzle or whether it was something else entirely. Some other, deeper need that was blinding him. “We can make her stay.”
Reaching out in frustration, he tries to push the younger version of himself. His hand ghosts through the little Finn, and doesn’t cause much more than a momentary confused pause. He felt angry tears in his eyes, and that just made him angrier. All he could seem to affect was himself, and how he felt. And that was getting worse and worse.
“Just, stay!” he shouts at their mom, pushing everything off the table with a crash. He grabs the crossbow, the one she never went on expeditions without, throwing it on the ground and driving his heel into it. It splintered with a loud crack. “Stay here!”