de profundis
"Brooklyn, you know,"—why, these days, when Brooklyn turned his face to him, did Hiro feel like a child? One with a stutter, mental and verbal, the kind of child he'd never ever been—"about nature, and, civilization, and how they're not… necessarily opposed—…"
Brooklyn smiled politely. Waited for Hiro to find the words he had lost and do something interesting with them. Undoubtedly something profound because Hiro wouldn't have walked over and stood by his head and looked down that intensely unless he had a point because he, same as everybody, was afraid of a bored Brooklyn.
Not that anything Hiro told him was very interesting, because of course Brooklyn knew already, but it was just when Hiro came up with things, like right now under a black sky with stars that Brooklyn couldn't see around the sparkler exploding in his hand like a universe, like he was God and there was power in entertaining that thought, out here, where Hiro couldn't get at it. And the grass under Brooklyn's back was cool and wet and Hiro should have gone back to the campfire. Roasted summore marshmallows.
Brooklyn took interest in when Hiro saw his eyes and realized.
a/n: The title probably doesn't make sense. BEGA and everything else including the fibers of my racing heart for feather-duster! At least Brooke didn't just maul him this time, huh?