Disclaimer: Based on characters and concepts owned by others. Written for fun, not profit.
Word Count: 100 each
Author's Notes: This is a series of drabbles written for the DandDToon Summer Fic Festival on LJ. The original prompt was Sheila & Bobby - sleepless night - "I miss her" given by realmlife. I actually took it a step further and did one for each of the kids, but the initial idea was what started the ball rolling. Thanks, dear!
A drabble series by N.L. Rummi
"I miss her."
It's a confession he wouldn't make in the daytime. Barbarians don't let their emotions show. He thinks it daily, however – every time he feels the solid pressure of the gold locket against his skin beneath the leather straps he wears: a constant reminder of another thing he misses about home.
He hasn't admitted it, though. Not since Teri left. He's a barbarian, and can't stand the "gushy stuff."
Night, however, is different. When the darkness shields his sadness, he allows Sheila to spend sleepless hours with him, and he confesses what he won't say in the daytime.
"I miss her."
He occasionally says it aloud, and he's always surprised to realize how true it is. It's as true as it had been the day he admitted to needing her, mere moments after they met. But it was still real.
He loves his friends, but this is different. He never had this sort of connection with anyone – not at home, where he always felt like an outcast. Figures he'd find a connection here. One he still feels.
What he won't say aloud is this: Whenever a portal closes, part of him is glad.
Because he really does miss her.
Sheila never realized how much she misses being mothered.
She's always cared for Bobby, but in the Realm it's different. She really has to take care of him now. It's more than just keeping an eye on him for a few hours, or making sure he doesn't get into trouble. This is a real, harsh world – a place where Mothering needs a capital "M." Sometimes the weight of that responsibility scares Sheila – as does the realization that somehow her Mothering has extended to the others.
Sheila realizes how much she misses being mothered herself.
She realizes how much she misses her mom.
He misses her.
And the worst part is he still sees her every day. Hank often wishes he could go back and ask her out sooner – so they would have at least had something before entering the Realm. As it stands now, he's just a guy who waited too long to get to know a girl better. And now it's too late, because now there are too many other things to deal with.
Just bad timing.
So now, whenever Hank glances over at the lovely redhead, he misses what might have been . . . and still has hope for what might be.
It's difficult to live like this. His voice is constantly in her head, and Diana feels such an unexpected sense of loss. Things had seemed simpler before, but now her thoughts are flooded with his voice; the quiet of the Realm broken by his words. And there's nothing Diana can do.
Once there had been someone who could have taken this unnecessary pain away. But now that person is gone.
So as Eric whines incessantly, Diana presses her palms into her pounding skull.
"Weren't you supposed to stay behind and marry someone, Cavalier?" she drones irritably. "God, I miss her."
When fireballs explode everywhere, the first thing on Eric's mind is keeping said blasts away from them. Being careful about it is usually the last.
He's the one with the shield, after all. It's not his fault that Venger's calling for open season on Earth kids; he's just the one keeping everybody from getting scorched.
It's certainly not his fault when stray energy ricocheting off his weapon nearly singes the stupid unicorn who doesn't have the brains to get behind the shield fast enough.
"Eric!" Bobby inevitably grouses. "Watch it!"
Eric rolls his eyes. "Pipe down, kid," he retorts. "I missed her."