Author's Note: I'm sadly yet to actually play Ib, but I am planning to once I finish Mad Father :) I watched Pewdie play it instead, a week or so ago, but it was some fanart on a fan page that inspired me to write this. I don't have a link to said fanart otherwise I'd share it, because it was very cute :3
This is just a oneshot, but I might write some more Ib fics in the future, I just hope this one doesn't suck x) ~nellen x
"I hate it here," Ib mumbled, tossing a paper ball between her hands.
She was sitting on the floor with her back against a wall, legs outstretched in front of her.
A tall boy lay beside her, his head resting on her lap.
"Same here," the boy sighed, "but it's doing no good just sitting around complaining. We have to think of something."
"I know Garry, it's just, I miss home so much," the young girl sniffed, as the tears began to well in her eyes.
The boy sat up immediately, wrapping a caring arm around her shoulders.
"Hey, don't cry Ib, it'll be okay," he whispered, lips pressing gently against her forehead, "I'll keep you safe. You'll be back with your mum and dad in no time."
"Have you got any family?" Ib blurted, furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve in an attempt to change the subject. She hated crying, especially in front of boys.
Crying would make her look weak, and she wasn't weak. She wasn't.
Garry chuckled at her sudden change of attitude, the laughter dying out as he answered her question.
"No."
"No mum?"
"No mum."
"No dad?"
"No dad."
"No brothers or sisters?"
"No brothers or sisters."
"Oh..." Ib murmured, weaving her own little arms around her friend and giving him a squeeze, "I'm sorry."
"Why? It's not your fault, it's no one's fault," he shrugged, willing himself not to cry too.
No one would worry if he didn't show up, or if he was missing for ages and ages. No one would ask questions. No one would care.
"Didn't you have anyone at all? Not even an auntie or uncle or-"
"None at all," he muttered, closing eyes to hide their shine, "anyone I did have is gone."
"Did you have a girlfriend?"
Garry opened his eyes, slowly, frowning in confusion. "Why ever would you ask that?"
Ib just shrugged, "curious. There must be someone out there for you."
"Well, there was this one girl," the hint of a smile flickered on the older boy's lips, fading out almost as soon as it had shone. "Izzy, short for Isabella, but... it... We broke up. She um, she was a model, at the agency I worked at, and she worked with, other models, uh, male models, and-"
"What were you doing in a modelling agency?" Ib's brow furrowed deeper in curiosity, as she laced her fingers through his.
He needed to know she was there. She wanted him to know she was there.
"I, uh," he scratched the back of his neck, the hint of a blush flourishing in his cheeks, "I... I did all sorts really. I was a scout, a photographer. I... I even modelled... Once or twice..."
"That sounds amazing," the girl beamed, red eyes wide in awe, "I always wanted to be a model when I was little,"
"You still could be, you know," he grinned, squeezing her hand, "I know a lot about the business, and you'd fit right in. Tall, for your age at least, slim, and very very pretty," he grinned, kissing her head again.
He never ever kissed her lips, or her cheek, or anywhere other than her head or her hand.
It felt wrong, she was eleven for crying out loud! He couldn't love a child, at least not in that way.
"Thanks," the little girl blushed, "I don't think Izzy knew what she had really. You're one of the nicest people ever, you deserve someone better."
"Oh, thanks" Garry paused, allowing a sly smirk replacing his shy smile, "what about you then? Come on, you must be fighting them off looking like that. There's got to be that one boy you like."
"No!" Ib squeaked, covering her mouth as she giggled nervously, "well, there's, there was, no."
Her cheeks glowed rosy as she thought of that boy in her Maths class, shaking her head and laughing.
"Well, you tell that boy if he ever dares to hurt you, or break your little heart, he'll have Garry to deal with. No stupid skirt chaser is going to upset you on my watch," Garry growled. It was meant as a joke of course, but both of them knew it wasn't. He was extremely protective of Ib, he'd proven that already, and fully intended to continue looking after her as soon as they escaped that wretched gallery.
"I love you Garry," Ib whispered, snuggling further into his side and pulling his large green coat around her, "I know you'll keep me safe."
"I will."
"Garry," Ib whispered, after a brief moment of silence, "Garry I've got an idea."
"What is it poppet?"
"Please don't be so patronising. I may well be eleven but I don't appreciate being treated like someone half my age."
"Sorry, Ib, I mean what was the idea?"
"You can join my family."
"Wait... What?" The boy's brows were knitted, as he thought about what she'd said. No, he must have misheard, surely, no one would ever-
"You can be my big brother. I always wanted a big brother. You can live in the spare room and we live near the high street so you can find a shop to model for again or something," she continued brightly, letting go of his hand and slipping out of his arm, sitting on his knee excitedly.
"Ib," Garry began, "I don't think..."
"Mum will like you, I can tell. You're a bit like her. She likes clothes and fashion and she's pretty and you're, I think it's the right word, very charming. The worst you could expect from my father would be a "You better not have tried any funny business with my daughter,"," her bad manly voice impression set them both of in laughter, and Garry smiled once again.
"Then I'd love to join your family, Ib, in fact I can't think of anything I'd want more."
