Understanding
Moses wasn't sure about Brooklyn yet.
He knew Ming-Ming's favorite color, food, memory, and venue. He knew the music she listened to was nothing like the music she sang, that she'd always wanted a huge family full of old people and babies, and that she preferred cool temperatures over hot ones, though acknowledging that summer allowed revealing bathing suits.
He could remember and pronounce Mystel's fifteen-part name, keep track of his erratic movements, and understand his bazaar jokes. He knew that Mystel had once been afraid of heights, until falling and realizing falling was an extremely appropriate metaphor and now regarded every facet of life as a controlled fall.
He knew that Garland hadn't opened his book of family principles since Tyson, and talked to Tyson often, and tried arranging meetings with Kai who tended to hang up on him. He knew that Garland was doing some soul searching, questioning what he'd always believed in, and becoming a better person for it.
Moses knew that Ming-Ming, Mystel, and Garland loved the team and wanted to stay together. But looking at Brooklyn feeding the ducks, tossing him a shy sort of indifferent look, replying to the stare—Moses just wasn't sure.
A/N: All BEGA drabbles are brought to you for feather-duster. With whom all things are possible