meditation (Daniel)

[Lilith Stewart]

I'm trying to remember how to do meditation. Is it actually necessarry to sit in that silly pose with your hands raised up and everything? I hope not... but I might try it anyway, just to see. Or, really, just to stop myself murdering my kids.

Micheal is being his usual, completely hyper self, of course. Isobel is just crying softly because she has an earache. So it's really not them that I'm mad at, but their father. And even though I can't remember why, I know he did something really irritating, and then he compounded it by disappearing to that stupid convention so now I can't yell at him properly and instead I'm just irritated with everybody else.

Deep breaths, Lilith. Zen, I remind myself, closing my eyes. But it isn't very long before Micheal is tugging at my sleeve.

"Mum," he says in a very loud whisper. "Did you fall asleep?"
Isobel, meanwhile, is still crying softly and rubbing at her ears as she sits in my lap.

Not for very long, I think, but luckily don't have to answer, being saved by the opening of a door.

((Eh... I don't know what I'm doing. ))

[Daniel Martin]

So much for a day off...
I'm finding it very hard to force myself to be upbeat lately. And I am really trying, trying so hard that I'm going to have an aneurysm if I keep it up probably, and that'll be bad because then I'll leave this one without a home.
The this one in question is, of course, staring up at the ceiling with undisguised wonderment as if there's something really cool up there. There's not, I checked. It's just ceiling tiles.

It's weird because it shouldn't matter to the this one whether or not I have an aneurysm because I'm really nothing to do with her and because my home is not her home.
I didn't know things like this actually happen, I didn't know that people gave away infants on street corners, I'd never even heard anything like that even as part of the most ridiculous joke.
I didn't know I'd take her either, but here we are.
Huh, Melody?
I shift her a little bit uncomfortably in my arms and she turns to stare at me as if she's never seen me before, then looks at something else instead as if she's already grown weary of my face.
I suppose she's not so bad...made infinitely better by the fact that she's not mine and any one of these days I expect someone will take her away and then I can go back to living on my own.

Because when I lived on my own - ah, the glory days - I did not have to worry about much at all and I did not have to come to work on my days off, either. That was back when days off were days off.
I don't see why anyone would have kids in the first place. Noisy, messy, time-consuming things. Well, not this one, actually which I suppose is why I've grown a little bit fond of her.
Fond enough to sacrifice my day off to take her here because I'm worried that she's a little bit off colour and don't want to treat her myself in case I do something wrong. It's not something I'm usually worried about, but this situation is a far cry from normal so it really does matter that she's seen by someone else.

I give an awkward little smile as I let myself into one of the waiting rooms dotted around this floor. There is, unfortunately, someone else in it with small children of her own.
I have a sudden bitter urge to ask her if she signed up for it, because I sure didn't, but push it out of my mind and instead take a seat as far away as humanly possible.
It's my day off, so I won't get involved. I don't treat children anyway.

(pfft, me neither. )

[Lilith Stewart]

Oh, darn. He doesn't really look like a Healer, does he?
I smile politely at the man who's just entered, because he's probably in for an even longer wait than me... unless his little girl is even sicker than mine.
I wish I could do something for mine, but my healing skills don't extend further than fixing up cuts or brewing tea. I'm starting to wish I'd just gone to see Riley instead of coming here, but that seems rude.

And anywhere, where was I? Meditation, right?
I close my eyes again and lean my head back against the wall, rubbing Issy's back to make her feel better. I ignore Micheal's loud, bored sigh until I hear him getting up, and look up just in time to see him doing yet another dinosaur imitation - half-scrunched over, sort of shuffling from side to side - as he heads across the room to the man with the baby.

Micheal adores his little sister. And because he's convinced that she misses her playmate as much as he'd miss one of his, he's obsessed with inspecting every baby he encounters, announcing each time that it's Melody, it's got to be, and Isobel won't have to be sad anymore.

To be honest, I don't think she is sad, and it's really Micheal that's missing his cousin... and probably also his aunt. I think, to him, they're one and the same. And personally, I'm not even sure what my niece really looks like. There aren't any pictures I know of, and Fitzy never brought her around much.
So I'll just leave him to it, I decide as Micheal leans in close to stare intently at the child. Unless he starts to bug them, and then I'll call him off.

[Daniel Martin]

"Uh...hi there," I say hesitantly when the kid is starting to freak me out a little bit.
Is that normal? For some strange kid to just come over and start staring like that?
I look down at Melody, who I'm holding very carefully so she can face outwards and look at things, looking for some sort of flash of recognition. But then I remember she's only very little and I'm not going to see anything of the sort.

I've developed the habit of holding Melody outwards...partly so I don't have to look at her and partly in the hope that whenever I enter a room someone will stand up and announce 'what are you doing with my baby?' At which point, I will hand her over and run away and not look back.
She squirms a little bit, which is part of the reason why I know she's ill. She keeps wriggling as if she's uncomfortable, and of course she felt a bit like she was on fire when I picked her up this morning and still does.

I glance across at the kids mother who seems to be either asleep or in really intense concentration, and then glance back at the kid himself who is still staring hard at Melody.
This is a little bit on the weird side, but maybe small children are just magnets for other small children.

[Lilith Stewart]

"Hello, baby," Micheal whispers, still trying to get a good look into the little girl's eyes. Then he turns around and grins, shouting as loud as he can. "Mum! It's her!"

The noise makes Issy whimper again, clutching at both of her ears, so I try to somehow shoot a 'you're in trouble' look at my five-year-old son while also making soothing noises for his sister. It doesn't really work well, so I give it up and shake my head. "Micheal Maximus Stewart, you leave the strange man and his little girl alone, all right?"

And now I've done my job there so I can refocus on Isobel. Are there any bloody Healers at all here today?

Micheal shakes his head, looking back at the baby and her father... or whoever. "Mum is cranky today because Daddy went to the... sci-fi conventeded. And she needs a nap."