Participants:
| Scene Title | I Miss Her Too |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A father celebrates his son's birthday. |
| Date | January 26, 2010 |
Snow covers the grounds of Bannerman's Castle, too cold for snowballs and snowmen. It's a rather lovely layer of white that hides the dull browns and grays of winter. But it's certainly not too cold to fling snow, make snow angels, and go sledding. Griffin has taken Owain out onto the grounds to play in the snow for his birthday, and occasionally make the boy 'fly' with his vectors.
It's one of those days that will ingrain itself on Griffin's mind. Eleven years ago today, Griffin was holding a much tinier version of Owain. He still remembers it like it was yesterday. Sure— he missed ten years between then and now, but there's no helping that, no use in mourning for the years he lost.
He's the only one left for his son, save for his father, who may not be the safest option, either, what with Colonel Heller already brutally murdering his sister. Shortly after the ordeal over a month ago, Griffin called his father up, frantic, and told the man to go into hiding, not to tell anyone where he was going, then hung up.
So it's just him and his son and Nadira now. His family grows smaller and smaller.
But his thoughts don't linger on those dark paths. It's only a brief moment that those thoughts cross his mind, before his attention is turned to the birthday boy, who is sledding down a small hill atop a garbage can lid. The man smiles warmly as the boy ends his trip down the hill with a spin and a tumble into the snow, clearing the distance between them with long legs. He reaches down, picking the boy up with a smile.
"Here, how about we go in for a bit? Your cheeks are getting pink." And it's time for presents and cake.
Owain accepts his dad's help out of the snow bank he landed in, laughing slightly. "Aw, but this is fun, dad!" He doesn't really object, however, dusting the snow off of his clothes and gloves. It is pretty cold out here.
"But your presents aren't out here."
That's more than enough to catch the boy's attention. "Can you make me fly to my presents?"
Laughing, Griffin happily obliges, his vectors lifting his son a few feet off of the ground, gently supporting the boy as he assumes a superman pose. The boy happily makes sound effects for his flight, laughing as his father makes him swoop into the castle, through the halls toward their room.
Waiting for Owain in the Mihangle room is a small two-person birthday cake, and a gift bag. "Presents first, then cake." Griffin grins as he sets the boy down on his feet as gently as he can manage, at which point the boy makes a grab for the gift bag. Within is a rather large book, Brave Story, and a handmade wooden soldier.
Owain offers a smile up to his dad, holding up his gifts. "Thank you, dad."
The candles are lit, and it is as Griffin is settling into singing 'Happy Birthday' that Owain rather suddenly bursts into tears, reaching out to hug his father. Griffin responds by cutting off the song, and kneeling down to hug his son.
"I miss mom! I miss her cakes, I miss her cookies, I miss her music! I even miss the cigarette smoke when she was stressed!" Owain shouts this into his father's shoulder, before collapsing into sobs. The boy hasn't had an outburst like this, hasn't actually cried, since the night everything happened, and it seems that the hysterical boy is finally letting it all out. "I wish we could bring her back!" After shouting his frustration out, the boy simply collapses into sobs
A frown creasing his features, Griffin quietly squeezes the boy, rubbing his back. "I wish we could, too, Owain…I miss her too."
The boy doesn't calm for a good half an hour, at which point he's exhausted himself from his fit enough that he eventually cries himself to sleep in his father's arms. Griffin is gentle when putting the boy in his cot, and he is gentle when he quietly rests his hand on the boy's forehead, concern bringing all of the worry lines out on his face.
"I miss her too…"
Tomorrow, Griffin will be returning to the mainland. Tomorrow, he'll be resuming the hunt for Marjorie's murderer. Tomorrow, it all starts again. Here's hoping he can avoid detection this time; it was really quite lucky that he managed to get away from those FRONTLINE-OS folks last time. Greater care is necessary these days; he might not be so lucky next time.
For now, however, he sits with his distressed son, feeling like the worst father in the world.