Work Text:
Spending time with his mother, Chris was finding, was just as hard as he expected. She tried too hard at times, as though she knew what he was feeling, that they might need to cram in as much time as possible because she might not be there when he got back.
It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy every moment of being with her, talking to her, or even listening to her lecture him on how he needed to take better care of himself or how she was going to force him to sleep if he didn’t watch it. He loved it and hated it at the same time and he wondered if such things were normal. He often did it, but did other people—live on such a pendulum of emotion where every feeling overlaid the one before it.
He crossed through the foyer and noticed his mother sitting at the table. He stood there for a few seconds, reminded of how his mother used to sit at the table with her coffee and listen to him ramble on about his plans for the day at school. No matter what else was going on, no matter what dangers were looming in the distance, that was their time…and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until now, until he found himself watching her from the shadows of the hall.