Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted!

A/N: I have been sort of on the fence about writing in-canon-ish stuff lately, but I think I'm ready for it again. Post 1x06.


Rations

A little hand appeared on the other side of John's desk, a granola bar held by the light purple fingers. He raised his eyebrows, watching as the hand put the granola bar on the desk and then poked it forward, scooting it toward him.

John had heard Riley sneak into his pseudo-office, and he had caught sight of her bright wings before she ducked down behind the front of his desk. He had been meaning to talk to her all day, just to see how she was. He knew that the influx of new people was probably overwhelming for her, so he had wanted to check on her.

"You didn't eat dinner."

"I did, too." He had, hadn't he? Or was that lunch? There has been a spaghetti MRE at some point today, though he couldn't remember exactly when. Oh well, he had eaten, that's what mattered.

"Sage said you didn't," scolded Riley's voice. She got up, appearing on the other side of his desk, her hands grabbing the old wood. "You gotta eat."

"Sage told you I didn't have dinner?" John reached over and picked up the granola bar, tilting his head to the side.

"Not really," she said with a shrug, her huge pink and black butterfly wings bobbing and fluttering before she folded them against her back. "I heard her say it to Lorna."

"Is this from your snack?" he asked, holding up the granola bar.

The stubborn set of her jaw told him it was even though she didn't say yes.

"Kiddo, it's nice of you to share, but you need to eat, too." Riley ate more than most kids her age, mostly because of the energy she used up with her wings and her powers. Snacks were common for her. He put the granola bar on the desk and pushed it back over to her.

Riley grabbed to and slid it towards him. "I don't want it."

"Come on, Riley, I bet you're hungry," he said, sending it back her way.

"Nope."

It rolled over to his side, and John gave a short, unexpected laugh. For the next minute, they slid the granola bar back and forth across his desk, the slippery plastic wrapping making it a perfect hockey puck. Finally Riley snatched it up and dashed around the edge of the desk, putting it firmly in front of him.

She pointed a finger at him. "You eat it, it's yours now."

Rolling his eyes, John swiped her up and sat her on his desk so they were a little more eye level. She immediately pulled her legs up and sat criss-cross. "I can get my own, you know."

"No, we don't got that much, you can have mine," she said, looking away from him. She picked up a pen from his desk and rolled it between her hands. "I don't want it."

John frowned. "What do you mean, we don't have that much?"

She shrugged, looking around at the papers on his desk. Everything that was currently out was info related to Gus and whatever program the government had him in. He opened a drawer, grabbed a piece of scrap paper, and put it down for her. Smiling a little, she started doodling, drawing circles and swirls.

"Did someone say something about food?" he asked, picking up another pen. He started drawing lines, bisecting some of her circles.

She nodded. "New people. They said we'd run out of food soon." She traced loops along one of the lines he had scratched out. "I didn't want you to be hungry."

"I won't be," he said, "Now look at me." Dark brown eyes met his and he held her gaze. "You're not going to go hungry either, okay? I swear, Riles." Back before Riley had been rescued, one of her punishments for misbehaving had been having multiple meals taken away from her. John would starve himself before seeing her go hungry.

Riley nodded and went back to drawing. "You still gotta eat that."

"You're so hardheaded," John said warmly, but he picked up the granola bar anyways. He ripped open the wrapping and split it in half. "We'll share it."

She made a face but took the half he offered her. Nibbling on the granola bar, she kept drawing on the paper though now she was drawing a dog. She scrawled a sad look on its lopsided face and little tear specks down one cheek.

"Is that Zingo?" John asked, looking at the dog.

"Yep."

"Why's she crying?"

"'Cause Clarice went away."

Oh. John sat back in his chair, suddenly very uninterested in eating the rest of the granola bar. His mind flashed to that image of papers floating in an empty hall, his fist denting the reinforced vault door. The helpless, gutted feeling because he hadn't got out that damn door fast enough to catch her. The regret that had settled onto his shoulders, pushing him farther down.

If he had just told her, if he had been honest with her…things could've been different. And now she was out there alone, with Sentinel Services crawling all over the city.

"Zingo likes Clarice best now, so she's sad," Riley was saying, drawing the dog's legs and tail, "She wouldn't play with me."

"I'm sorry about that," John said. He raked his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling. "That was my fault."

Riley's head jerked up. "Huh?"

"I… I lied to Clarice about something. I kept something from her."

"That wasn't nice," Riley said, frowning at him.

"Yeah, it wasn't. So she left, and that's on me."

Riley looked at him for a long moment and her wings stretched and flicked out, betraying her agitation. She didn't like lies or people being mean to each other. But then her wings settled down and she went back to drawing. "Did you say you were really sorry?"

"Not enough," John said, looking down, thinking. "I should've said it differently. I tried but…I didn't say it right." It hadn't been enough considering what he and Sonia had done to her, it had been so wrong. But yeah, he really couldn't do anything right lately. He kept screwing up.

A gentle touch on his head made him look up. Riley patted his head and then ruffled his hair like he did with her. "You can say it more."

"Not right now since she's gone," John said, "But thanks, kiddo."

"Don't be not nice anymore, and it'll be okay," Riley said, using her kid logic on him. If only it was that simple. She picked up her half of the granola bar and picked off a bit of it, popping it into her mouth. "Clarice is cool. I like her, so you should be nice to her."

"You're very right," John said, nodding, "I should be." And not just because Riley liked her.

"I hope she comes back soon," Riley said, "So Zingo won't be sad. And she can play with me more. And you can say you're sorry again."

John sighed. "Me too." And this time he'd get it right.