[He isn't sure where he wants to go, but he gets up anyway. He just needs a moment where no one tiny is clinging to him and looking for answers he doesn't have. Because he isn't neglecting her, but he doesn't know how to parent her either. He's not her parent, and he's not a good substitute. He shouldn't have brought her. He thought he'd been saving her, but he hasn't. It was just cruel. He'd known as soon as the bomb went off that he'd gotten it wrong, but by then it was too late. And now he's all she has, and he doesn't know how to be that to someone.
So he jumps up from the table, quickly enough to upset Peace as Stephanie had predicted. But he can't decide what to do next. He starts for the door, then stops, guilty and confused. Peace is crying again. He keeps making her cry. He keeps scaring her by...by what? Making her feel abandoned? Making her realize that she is alone?
It sits on his chest like a rock. He's panicking now, and he knows it. And he really, really can't do that. If he lets himself start that he might never be able to snap out of it. It's not fair to Peace, and it's not fair to Stephanie. And you know what? This isn't fair to him either, damn it. This is bullshit, and it's unfair. Nobody's getting anything good out of this. No one at all.
He kicks a trashcan, and yanks at his hair, and then he squeezes his eyes closed and takes deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Slowly. He can't just throw a tantrum. He's got responsibilities now. He opens his eyes again, starts back to the table to apologize to the girls, then stops again. His insides give a sudden heave and he doubles over the trash bin, giving up the finger paint sandwiches.
That's better, actually. The shaking eases off, the heavy feeling in his middle lets up, the panic dulls to a mild discomfort. And the rush of endorphins eases the embarrassment the situation causes. Maybe he was just sick, and he didn't notice it because there just wasn't time to pay attention to himself lately? Either way, it's a relief. He instantly feels so much better, that even as he spits to clear his mouth, he offers Stephanie a queasy smile.]
Thanks. Sorry. I uh, I meant to get out of the room for that.
[And he did, he realizes. Even if he hadn't been able to identify until it was too late why it was that he wanted to leave the room. But he's okay now, mostly. And Peace isn't crying. Sometimes she eats too fast, too, so she just scoots out of her seat and reaches up to pat Stanley's leg, the way he pats her back for her when she's ill. The gesture is kind of sweet, he decides. She's a good kid. And she deserves to be alive, no matter what anyone else says.]
tl:dr and so much worse sorry ma'am
So he jumps up from the table, quickly enough to upset Peace as Stephanie had predicted. But he can't decide what to do next. He starts for the door, then stops, guilty and confused. Peace is crying again. He keeps making her cry. He keeps scaring her by...by what? Making her feel abandoned? Making her realize that she is alone?
It sits on his chest like a rock. He's panicking now, and he knows it. And he really, really can't do that. If he lets himself start that he might never be able to snap out of it. It's not fair to Peace, and it's not fair to Stephanie. And you know what? This isn't fair to him either, damn it. This is bullshit, and it's unfair. Nobody's getting anything good out of this. No one at all.
He kicks a trashcan, and yanks at his hair, and then he squeezes his eyes closed and takes deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Slowly. He can't just throw a tantrum. He's got responsibilities now. He opens his eyes again, starts back to the table to apologize to the girls, then stops again. His insides give a sudden heave and he doubles over the trash bin, giving up the finger paint sandwiches.
That's better, actually. The shaking eases off, the heavy feeling in his middle lets up, the panic dulls to a mild discomfort. And the rush of endorphins eases the embarrassment the situation causes. Maybe he was just sick, and he didn't notice it because there just wasn't time to pay attention to himself lately? Either way, it's a relief. He instantly feels so much better, that even as he spits to clear his mouth, he offers Stephanie a queasy smile.]
Thanks. Sorry. I uh, I meant to get out of the room for that.
[And he did, he realizes. Even if he hadn't been able to identify until it was too late why it was that he wanted to leave the room. But he's okay now, mostly. And Peace isn't crying. Sometimes she eats too fast, too, so she just scoots out of her seat and reaches up to pat Stanley's leg, the way he pats her back for her when she's ill. The gesture is kind of sweet, he decides. She's a good kid. And she deserves to be alive, no matter what anyone else says.]