AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed.
Hands
"Do you know what it means to be adopted, Jack?" She could see the controlled way his chest expanded, the boy's refusal to let the panic show now that he'd been caught. He didn't meet her eyes, his own going from the open sock drawer to latch onto the purple toothbrush she held.
He nodded his head, a quick jerk that sent his shaggy bangs over his eyes like a shield. "Something that just happens to little kids," he said. There wasn't bitterness or resentment in his tone, just a cold statement of fact.
"It's not," she said. She rose and left the toothbrush forgotten on the bed. She crossed the room to where he stood rigid as stone in the doorway and took his hands in hers. "It's a way of finding a family. For anyone."
His hands twitched in hers but he didn't pull away.
"I adopted Bobby when he was twelve. Angel was almost fourteen."
He shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you don't have to steal your own toothbrush anymore."