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5th floor common room ; wednesday afternoon

While Flick could deal with the cold weather, that didn't mean he wanted to be out in it, freezing his ass off for longer than necessary. And today, going out there wasn't necessary. He didn't have any classes to run to and he didn't have the motivation to slink into town to try and relieve some townspeople of their belongings.

All he really had the energy to do was wake up, put on some clothes and make his way down to the common room so he could scrounge some food and take advantage of their comfortable sofas. Doing this probably made him lazy but he didn't care. He figured he should take advantage of the downtime since it looked like he had to get back to New York sooner rather than later. It was almost Ranking Day and apparently, Mandel wanted Flick there to see the Dux title taken away.

Honestly, Flick didn't really care. He'd done it on purpose and he was at peace with it. He knew what was going to happen, he knew what he was and what he had to do so he didn't need the title. Joi could have it and be safe. The television was on but Flick wasn't paying that much attention to the soap opera he'd stopped on. His attention was on the news articles that he was scrolling through on his phone.

Time to see what the Mandel alumni (including his asshole father) were up to. See how they were wrecking lives and what the current Mandel students had to look forward to. Such a lovely world they were shaping.

[Open place/post]

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"So, you've been avoiding me but it's been accidental?" he asked, trying to parse that statement there. "Kinda confusing."

"Well, it wasn't that I was avoiding you so much as not actively looking for you, while I tried to figure out what to say." Look, it made sense to her. Kind of. "Since last time we really hung out I was ...smaller, and less discreet."

"...thanks for the phone, by the way."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling at her. "You were a cute kid, Emma. There something bothering you about that, though? You seem kind of...hesitant. Or unsure."

Just from where he was sitting. "Everything okay?"

Just a lifetime's worth of trust issues doing her head in, no big. "I was a cute kid who didn't know to keep her mouth shut," she said. "I mean you're not stupid, Flick, how many foster kids do you know who go to fancy boarding schools?."

Not that she distrusted Flick with knowing that, but issues, lots of them.

"Not many," he said since he didn't want to completely blow off her question. "I'm not stupid. I figured it out but so what? You're a foster kid? I was a street kid. I ran away from home because my father's an abusive dick."

He was apparently sharing details of his life today, okay. Apparently, they'd been bottled up for too long. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. And it doesn't change anything for me. Does it for you?"

"Not just a foster kid." Since Flick had just said he'd been a runaway, she figured he could fill in that blank without much trouble. "I'd only have to worry about people being dicks in that case, and been there, done that."

"No. Well, not in a bad way." It wasn't like she liked lying about herself.

For a second, Flick was quiet before he pushed himself off the couch and made his way towards her. He didn't invade any personal space or anything but this was still better than talking to her while slouched on the couch.

"Been there, done that," he repeated, nodding knowingly. "Am I the first person you've told this to?"

Emma nodded. "Lucky you," she said dryly. "Figured people can't let slip what they don't know, and no one gets dragged down with me when they realise that I'm really not supposed to be here."

"Oh Emma, if you only knew what seems to happen to people who get involved in my life," Flick said, shaking his head. "You don't have to worry about dragging me down. Really don't."

He was pretty much already down.

"And when you say things like that, it makes it sound like you really do need someone to keep an eye out for you," Emma pointed out.

"People won't do that if they want to stay safe," he said, shaking his head. "Because I'm not."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, the way you looked out for tiny children was totally unsafe."

Flick made a face at that one. "I had a brother. Younger. He died. I picked up a few things there because he and I were pretty much on our own."

Emma leant across to put her hand on his. "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "That why you ran?" She didn't believe he'd leave a kid brother behind like that.

"Mostly yeah," he admitted, turning his hand over in hers just to get a slightly better grip with his fingers. That was the only reason, yes.

Of course.

"And because my father, you know, liked using me as a punching bag," he added. "I'm pretty sure you killed Jude too. Lots of reasons to take off. Lots."

Emma squeezed his hand, because, you know, he seemed like he could use the comfort. Yeah. "Sounds like a real prize," she said. "Most of my foster parents were just the look at a kid and see a paycheck kind rather than...that."

"Mmm." Flick went quiet for a few moments, feeling thoughtful while he processed a few things. "How many fosters parents are we talking about here?"

Trying to remember the exact number would just be depressing.

"This is the longest I've been in one place since I was three and my first set decided they didn't want me any more once they were going to have their own kid." She'd thought she was over that. Apparently not. "At least I got to keep the last name."

This time, Flick was the one giving her hand a squeeze. Didn't sound like an easy life. Didn't sound like an easy anything.

"I promise, I'm not going to tell anyone," he said, voice quiet. "Or pity you. I know how that is, people looking at you different because they know things about you. I won't do that. But it still sucks. I know how it feels, believe me. I know. I get it."

"They left me beside a freeway." Apparently she'd needed to work up to this part. "A newborn in nothing but a baby-blanket."

Emma looked up at Flick. "Guess we're still both winning at losing."

"Jesus."

Well, that wasn't a pleasant detail. He gave her hand another squeeze, gripping a little tighter. He maybe wanted to do try and do more to help but he was not good at this. Comforting was something he wasn't great at.

"We're sad sacks," he said in reply to her second statement. Tried to smile though it mostly looked sad. "Still alive though despite what's happened. That's gotta be something, doesn't it? Haven't given up yet."

"Too stubborn for our own good," Emma said by way of agreement, interlacing her fingers with his. "At least we've got each other."

Which was why Flick wasn't allowed to have his brain dissected, even if Emma didn't know that was on the table.

"Yeah," Flick agreed, glancing down at their hands and smiling just the tiniest bit. Nothing too bright or anything but still. Things like that were nice to hear.

"It's not the first time I've been called too stubborn for my own good either," he shared, looking back up at her. "Pretty sure that got thrown around at home and when I ended up in New York. My dad thought it was an insult. I just thought it was awesome."

He didn't want to have his brain dissected either. He acted like he didn't care but yeah, he didn't want it to happen. It scared him.

Emma managed something vaguely resembling a smile. Vaguely. "Well, since your dad's obviously wrong, that just leaves us with the awesome."

Go them.

Go them.

"We are awesome," he decided to say in lieu of anything else maudlin. He rubbed his thumb against her hand lightly. No smile but his tone was a little lighter than it had been. "We are. I don't care that you're a foster kid, Emma. I don't. I promise."

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