Mother
IMS
Because all children need their mother at some point and a near death experience involving a genocidal alien would be enough to cause even a teenager to want their mother.
IMS
She couldn't protect him anymore.
Sharp brown eyes darted across the battered lanky frame that belonged to her only child before Judy's breath caught in her throat as she met eyes that seemed to have aged decades in the hours since she'd last seen them. Where had the eyes filled with such simple wonder at the world around him gone? Pursing her lips together tightly as she shook off the restraining hand Ron had on her elbow, Judy pushed her way through the people standing between a mother and her child.
And then—and then she was standing in front of him. Trembling hands reaching forward to cup bruised and scraped cheeks in a gentle grip known from earliest childhood. Arching her fingertips as she grazed the worst of the scrapes, Judy looked up in mild concern at the sharp intake of breath. Pulling back to watch as nervous eyes darted around the room she wondered where she'd been that she hadn't prevented such a look of hunted terror from entering her child's eyes.
Wistful, slow and full of a remorse that threaded through her heart like a silken thread, Judy pulled her son's head to rest in the slender curve of her neck. Wrapping her arms around him tightly as she ignored the tickle of fine brown hair against her nose, she waited patiently for the small tremors she knew were coming. Forcing her breath to remain steady even as her son's became ragged and she felt the prickling of tears in harmony with the first of the burning droplets of water that landed on her borrowed shirt.
Watery eyes gazing fiercely around the room, Judy quelled the urge to smirk in smug satisfaction as more than one gaze was hastily averted. She couldn't stop the fear that she knew would stalk her son's dreams with all the finesse of a predator created by nature but she could soothe it. She wasn't able to prevent the bruises and cuts that marred the pale skin of her child but damned if she couldn't heal it with time and patience. There was so much; so very, very much that she couldn't do but she could stand there with the open arms her child needed so very much. And standing there with her son's muffled sobs tearing at her with all the vicious nature of the metal bastard that had caused all the hurt, Judy smiled sadly as she whispered a constant litany of soothing nonsense.
IMS
Misfits isn't a series. It's just a grouping of one-shots and other little pieces of writing that I've had posted up on my LJ and figured I should get over here too. Thanks for reading!