Moment 036: Normalcy
Being back in Diamond City feels odd to her, this time. Or... odder. Not because of the trip back, though God knows that after all the time she's spent dodging raiders and beasts and whatever else the Commonwealth has to offer, the peace of simply walking with no dangers approaching whatsoever was almost enough to drive her crazy.
The oddness she feels also isn't because of any serious amount of concern for Blue. The rumors that reach the city from Libertalia is enough to convince Piper that her best friend is at least managing to make herself useful to both the Commonwealth and the Institute, judging by the sightings of what was apparently both a Courser and a woman in a very familiar jumpsuit. The rumors, at least, haven't linked the two as working together, though Piper suspects that was exactly what they did.
She can't quite decide if she's more afraid of Blue being publicly linked to the Institute and what that would do to her in the eyes of the people, or of the fact that Blue could potentially find the Institute to be the most logical faction to side with. But it's probably a pretty even split.
"Hellooooo?" The voice makes her jump, but not as much as the poke to her side. "Are you spacing, or trying beat Vadim's record for the fastest way to ruin dinner?"
"Wha-" She looks at her sister, and then at the pan. Which is maybe a little on fire. "Shit."
"Spacing," Nat decides, and watches in silence while Piper curses some more and quickly moves the pan off of the stove. "Everything okay? We're not about to get kicked out or anything, are we?"
Piper slaps a lid over the pan – it's way too big but still does the job – and blows out a breath when the small flames die out. "Nah, kiddo," she then promises. "No more than we normally are."
"'Kay." Her sister eyes her for a moment. "You think maybe I should take over the cooking? Just so you don't burn the house down."
"Nat, you're only-"
"- almost thirteen," is the pointed interruption. "Jeez, sis; who d'ya think feeds me whenever you're gone?"
"Elves." Piper glowers at her, but steps back because Nat has a point. She's growing up, and the best thing Piper can do is let her, even if it sucks. "Tiny little elves in bright green clothing, with candy-cane walkers."
"Uh huh." Nat eyeballs her from her new position in front of the stove. "Think maybe you should go sit down? You sound like you need a dose of something, but I'm not sure what."
Blue, probably, but she doesn't say that. Mostly because Nat is as perceptive as Piper is; something that means that she already suspects if she doesn't know outright, and Piper really isn't in a hurry to have that conversation with her little sister. Yes, Nat is growing up – probably faster each time she's left behind - but realizing that much doesn't mean that Piper has to like it. She'll try to get more used to the idea, but a large part of her desperately wants Nat to stay as she is; safe in Diamond City, and too innocent to realize how dangerous their world truly is.
That's not fair to Nat, and she knows it. Staying home, at least, helps her make some amount of peace with things, and the simple normalcy of spending time with her sister does a good job of distracting her from how much she wishes that Blue was there with them. During the day, anyway.
The nights are different. Nat is sleeping behind her makeshift wall downstairs, and Piper is left to her own thoughts in her own bed, which feels disturbingly large and empty. Without the heat of Blue's body there to share the threadbare covers, it's colder than she can ever remember it being, and she tugs the blanket tightly around herself in an effort to ward off the chill. Her teddy bear – Buttons, because that's what he has for eyes – helps a little; gives her something to curl an arm around and rest her head on even if that something still pales in comparison to the real thing.
He does help a little with the cold, she thinks, and rubs her thumb over his sparse fur while she listens to the low, familiar sounds of a Diamond City night. He's definitely scratchier than the woman he's filling in for, but he's enough to make her think a little less about what Blue is up to and why there have been no new rumors for the past week.
Blue is alright. She has to be, because Piper is still convinced that if something had happened to her, her heart would stop beating to save her the agony of waiting for news that never come and returns that never happen. When she sleeps – however short those periods are - her dreams go from one extreme to the next; from finding herself gray and alone and nothing of Blue to be found no matter how hard she looks, to seeing that familiar frame slip through the door, tasting that smile and feeling those arms around her in a peaceful evening at home where the three of them are a family.
She's not sure which kind is harder to wake up from.