040. All My Love

[samson]

[Ezio Auditore]
Hey, man. So ... last year when these magic babies disappeared, Molotov kind of wigged out. So just keep an eye out for that, I guess.

[Cross Marian]
[WOW HE STILL HATES YOU hear that terseness in his tone, bro?]

Hey. Molotov might flip out soon. And she likes you, so just keep an eye on her.

[Room 509]
[Welp, it's Saturday night, and Brock had sort of been dreading it. He was trying not to think about Andy going home tomorrow -- maybe she wouldn't, you know? Sometimes things here lasted longer than they were "supposed to."

But that still didn't keep him from deciding he was going to stay awake well past midnight to keep an eye on his fake impossible magic baby for as long as humanly possible.

He's on his way through the living room when he notices a door. Like, a freestanding door that wasn't there before.]

Uh. Hey, Molotov? What's this thing?

Comments

[samson]

[MOLOTOV, NO........

Brock sighs sadly, closing his eyes and holding her tightly.]

It'll be okay.

[molotov]

[When she speaks, it's muffled and a whisper, anyway, so Brock is entirely forgiven if he can't hear.]

I don't want to. We can keep her, we can take her to the Dead Zone.

[samson]

[He hears that! Weh.]

I'm scared if we take her to the Dead Zone, she'll disappear and not come back at all.

[molotov]

What if we just... do not put her to bed?

[samson]

She has to go to bed sometime, Mol.

[molotov]

Nyet, I mean... what if we do not put her to bed here, what if we just watch her the whole night? The castle never does things while you are watching, it is always while we sleep...

[She's desperate, this is her baby... ]

[samson]

That ... just seems like we're taking a risk, Mol. I'd rather be able to say goodbye ...

[molotov]

[Molotov breaks now, and presses her face to his chest again, sobbing.]

[samson]

[FFFFFFFF ugh no this is awkward, and how

does he even deal with this HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW........

Patting her on the back....] Uh, shit -- no, I didn't ... I meant 'see you later,' not like ... goodbye goodbye, uh ...

[molotov]

[BROCK THAT IS NOT HELPFUL YOU ARE JUST MAKING HER FEEL WORSE

But she refuses to pull away while there are tears in her eye.]

[samson]

[HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO OKAY. HE'S NOT... GOOD... AT THIS. Like, at all. What the fuck is he doiiinnngggggg!!!!]

Honey ... honey, look. We didn't see each other for years at a time but we still loved each other. It'll be the same with Andy, it'll be okay ...

[molotov]

[She just shakes her head. Not the same at all, jackass.]

[samson]

Baby, she'll come back.

[Seriously, he feels like if they don't put her in this little bed where she obviously belongs, something bad will happen. Maybe as innocuous as her just disappearing at midnight like she did last year, but what if they don't get her back if they don't put her in there? This is the castle's bullshit, and if they don't play by its rules, it might punish them by like, withholding babby.]

[molotov]

[Molotov just stands there, sniffling and digging her fingers into his back. This is more an act of not wanting him to see her cry than it an act of defiance, but it also affords her time to think. She's not afraid that Andy won't come back -- she's afraid that, if one of them leaves, Andy won't be able to come back. It's so obvious that her parents are Brock and Molotov together, and if Brock leaves, Molotov will never get her back.

A year is far too long in this castle.

In one smooth movement, Molotov pulls away and then faces the other way to wipe at her face, so he can't see. She's quiet for another moment, then nods.]

Okay.

[samson]

[Well that's cool, because Brock really didn't want to see her cry anyway. WEIRD. It was too weird.

Anyway, if Brock left, Molotov should probably worry about more things than getting her magic baby back. Things like ... staying sane. But regardless, he wouldn't leave! He would never leave, he promised her.

When Molotov turns away, Brock just lets her, frowning and watching the back of her head.]

Okay. Should I get her?

[molotov]

[Well, okay, yes, but the magic baby was a part of it too, so kindly shut up.

Molotov shrugs.]

I guess.

[samson]

[He goes over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of her head.]

You can't let her know anything's wrong, babe. Okay?

[And then he goes to get that babby......]

[molotov]

[BROCK, NOT HELPFUL. Now she has to work even harder to keep it together.

Molotov just waits, picking up things that she doesn't care about and inspecting them.]

[samson]

[He was just reminding her! Just reminding her because he didn't want her to freak Andy out with her big ol' frowns, alright? Jeezy petes.

Brock comes back with Andy after a few minutes, holding her hand.]

Do you have the book we made for Mama?

[Andy waves her "book," it's a little construction paper packet stapled together.] Yes!

[molotov]

[Molotov smiles as best she can (it's tight and maybe just a little pained), then stoops and picks Andy up.] You made me a book?

[samson]

[Andy thrusts the packet into Molotov's face.] Yes, to read!

[Since Brock had been rummaging through her drawers like a creep, he already found some pajamas, so he takes those out. Like everything else in the room, it was girly and fit for a princess. Probably had rhinestones on it or something.]

[molotov]

[Blinking and leaning back, Molotov sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.] Are you going to read it to me?

[samson]

[Andropov shakes her head, pointing at Molotov.] You have to do it.

[molotov]

[Molotov looks desperately at Brock, plastering a very fake smile on her face.] Maybe Daddy can read it to us.

["Because if I have to do it, I will not be able to hold it together," is the end of that thought.]

[samson]

[Brock catches that, furrowing his brow at her a little, then holds out the nightgown to exchange it for the little construction paper book.] Get her ready for bed and I'll read it.