Vignette Summary: To kill time as they await rescue, Godot and Pearl build a snowman.

Tags: Angst/Humor

Word Count: 972

Date: Friday, February 8th, 2019

Time: 3:43 pm

Location: Inner Temple, Eagle Mountain

After his talk with Mia the previous night, Godot promised to do as she asked: put a brave face on until it was all over and ensure Pearl and Maya's wellbeing until rescue.

With the former, he thought he was doing an alright job. Having a visor that blocked half his face was helpful in maintaining a stoic façade, and he tried his best to take on a friendly demeanor during his interactions with Pearl. He had a sleepless night to ruminate and be remorseful, but he flipped that switch off once Pearl woke up.

With the latter, he did what he could. There weren't many resources at his disposal on the Inner Temple side, but he made use with what he had: the energy bars in his pockets, the snacks in Maya's backpack, the small spring on the island, the comforter and pillow in the training hall, and the incinerator outside.

Being the island's cruise director and distracting them was also something he felt obligated to do for their wellbeing. The more distracted he was, the less anguished he felt. The more preoccupied Pearl was, the less she fretted over Maya's condition in the cavern.

Filling their time was challenging. The two talked but conversation was stilted due to their generational divide, different upbringings, and the fact that one of the parties was actively trying to hide his identity. After hours of warming up by the incinerator, talking, and I Spy, Godot suggested they make a snowman, an idea Pearl heartily accepted.

A snowball fight was his first thought, but he feared that the size differential between them might make that endeavor problematic. Maybe he'd accidentally lob one at her too hard, make her cry, and then feel even guiltier than he already did.

The two of them rolled three snowballs and he stacked them on top of one another. Initially, Pearl suggested that they make the snowman as big as possible, but he urged her in a more reasonable direction, knowing how suspicious it would look to the police if nine-year-old Pearl built a snowman much taller than her while, supposedly, alone.

Once the snowman was built, they dotted its face with pebbles to make a nose and a mouth before Pearl ran to the woods to grab the finishing touches: some twigs. She inserted two on the sides for his arms and placed three, approximately equal-sized pieces, where the eyes should go, replicating the neon lights of Godot's visor.

"All finished!" Pearl announced. She giggled. "He looks like you now."

Godot examined her handiwork, at a loss for words. That was so... precious. She couldn't have been that cute by accident; he thought. Someone had to put her up to this. It was so sweet, in fact, that he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he'd need to rip the twigs off that snowman later, before the authorities arrived.

He was mad at himself that such a simple gesture was making him emotional. After he woke up from his coma, he mourned not only Mia but the future they were supposed to have. He did the math and calculated that, if that pregnancy scare had been real, they'd have a five-year-old now.

He knew it was stupid; it was a false alarm, nothing more. Still, he wondered how different life would have been if it had been real. It wasn't the right time, but it probably would have made them more careful. They would have stopped their investigation into Dahlia. Mia would have left Redd White's investigation alone. That's what good parents do, right? They have stable jobs, buy minivans, and start college funds. They don't confront dangerous criminals and attempt to bring them to justice.

In his pre-coma vision for his life, he imagined himself with three kids: an oldest boy and twin girls. This was before a set of twins, one twin in particular, destroyed his life. He liked the idea of the oldest being there to look out for the younger two. To make sure no one at school would bully them and that any boy thinks twice about breaking their hearts.

Being trapped with Pearl though, he could only imagine that hypothetical child as a little girl. This adorable amalgamation of both his and Mia's features.

After several quiet seconds, Pearl brought him back to earth. "Are you okay, Mr. Lawyer?"

Godot swallowed. "Ah... yeah. Sorry. Just a little tired, and I zoned out. Didn't sleep great last night."

"Do you want to share the blanket tonight?"

"No, but thanks. You need it more than me."

She smiled sweetly. "I really don't mind. It's very cold in the training hall."

He appreciated the offer but, as cold as he was and as innocent as the gesture would have been on both sides, the optics of a grown man sharing a blanket with a child weren't great. "I'll be okay; I have my jacket. That blanket is for you." He grinned. "Besides, I don't want to get kicked in the shins."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you know? You move around in your sleep."

Pearl frowned. "No, I don't!" she countered.

"Yes, you do," Godot insisted. "Like a fish out of water, just thrashing around, all night." He waved his arms in an exaggerated way to demonstrate.

"Do not!"

"That's not what I saw. You'll have to record yourself sleeping when you get home."

Pearl folded her arms. "Hmph."

"I'm just teasing you. If you didn't react so much, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

"It's not very funny to me."

"Sorry, Pearly. Can't help myself sometimes. How about we go back to the incinerator and warm up before it gets dark?"

She nodded and soon they put the conflict behind them.