#Shout out to the bg artist of Staycation who opted for snow lightly dusting leafy plants I love u

[fountainpenguin]

"Wherever you are, whenever it's right, you'll come out of nowhere and into my life..."

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New Factor It In chapter today!

Chapter 5 - “Vinculum”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Start from Chapter 1

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It's foster family drop-off time for Rex (AKA Kid Math). Miah does her best to welcome him into the Pirakell home. That means introducing him to her sugar glider, discussing the crushing reality of being a burden to your absent parents, touring his new room, and dairy-free cupcakes! Huh. This is... not like life on Hexagon at all...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Vinculum

.:: January 3rd - Saturday - 6:16 pm ::.

“Whatever you do, do it devotedly, for in hesitation, you’ll find only weakness.”

(Ancient Hexagon proverb)

➕ ➖ ✖️ ➗

Psst! Look for the words sensory and hesitate

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It’s a mild January evening outside the home of Miah and Milo Pirakell. Unfortunately for Rex Pemdas (AKA Kid Math), he’s arrived just too late to see the sunset…

The boy hesitates when Clarissa pulls open the rear door of her car. Miah can see that even from her hidden place behind the window blinds. He bites his bottom lip. “Milo,” she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear her from the kitchen. Her husband’s head pokes around the edge of the wall, ponytail dangling past his shoulder. Miah motions towards him with one hand. “He’s here.”

“Right. Uhh… Who’s here, again?”

“Our new foster placement. The 8-year-old boy. We set up the guest room today.” She manages to hold back an eye roll, even in jest. Milo can be spacy from time to time, but Miah has full trust in his ability to offer a safe, comforting home to a foster kid. Milo is a stay-at-home dad to their 3-year-old sugar glider, Misty. He does accounting work, and when foster children stay with them, he runs them to all their appointments. They split most of the chores 50-50, trying to keep their marriage an even partnership (Milo always anxious he’ll come across as sexist by asking her to handle more, Miah constantly fretting that she’s accidentally implied his remote job is any less important than what she does at the hospital).

Milo’s eyes widen like flying saucers. He looks like a lost, goofy puppy peering around the corner, and her oozing heart falls for him all over again. The two of them click like magnets. Always have. Milo is easily overwhelmed by the amount of information pinging his mind on a daily basis, so he leans on her steady form and analytical mind. Meanwhile, running 12-hour shifts as a nurse and midwife three days a week leaves her bitter and drained, so she needs to circle home in the evenings and find his loving arms and kindly soul. They’re a mismatch. He completes her. And he’s adorable, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Oh!” he yelps. “The new foster placement! Right, right.” Milo scrambles from the kitchen so fast, he almost looks like he’s down on all fours. The open halves of his green sweatshirt flap behind him. He brushes his hands down his front. He doesn't leave a chocolate stain even though he was frosting cupcakes. Maybe he just has sweaty palms, not crumbs or icing on his fingertips. “H-he’s out there right now?”

“Yes.” Miah plays her nails very, very carefully against the blinds. She can only see the boy and Clarissa when she presses her forehead right up against the window, and if he looks up and locks eyes with her, he’ll probably think she’s a total stalker. The easiest thing to do is “pretend to be normal” as much as she can. Miah is an expert at passing through life as though she’s insignificant. Ha! She’s ‘Little Miss MIA.’ She sort of prides herself on how few people know her name.

Okay. Back straight. Friendly smile. Not too over-the-top. Is this okay? She checks her reflection over, tongue in her cheek. Chestnut brown hair dangles past her shoulders. She picked out hoop earrings the size of her fists today. Occasionally they snag, but her sugar glider likes to bat at them. It’s sort of her thing. A pink rayon shirt, black jacket thrown on top. Miah tugs the hem down. Quick breath in. Little hop on her toes. She’s totally ready. She watches through the blinds as Clarissa says a few words to the kid, who nods and holds his over-the-shoulder duffel bag more tightly to his side. A star-patterned backpack dangles from his hand.

So this is Rex…

Miah hadn't known exactly what to expect. Rex looks like he survives off veggie platters, dirt bike rides, and pixie dust. It's too dark to get a perfect look at him, but that feels right. He's both rugged and geeky, if it's okay to say that about your foster kid. There's intelligence in those squinting eyes. He adjusts his square glasses frames with all the poise of a kid who knows exactly what he's looking for. He wears a frumpy red hoodie, halfway unzipped to show a hint of blue shirt underneath. There's some kind of white logo printed on the blue, though she can't see what it is from here. Maybe a skull? Or a fish?

He's African American. At least, that's her tentative understanding. Clarissa relayed a few details after she and Milo confirmed they wanted to learn more about the placement. The state hasn't been able to track down any information about his family. Apparently Rex had denied his consent in the DNA test the state had pushed for, which frustrated several of the adults involved, but… Miah can see where he's coming from. Her mom passed away unexpectedly when she was only 13. Though she never knew her father, she'd been so shaken up by the whole "ending up in foster care" thing herself that she hadn't wanted the test either. The thought of getting answers to those lifelong questions completely burned her out.

Case in point: What if her father wanted nothing to do with her, or had remarried and started a new family and didn’t want her, or what if he lived outside the country, or had passed on like her mother had? Every option stung. Then it simmered. Then it burned. That small, twinkling hope that he might welcome her with open arms all too easily drowned beneath her anxiety. Year after year, she still opted not to know.

Rex won’t be the first African American child to stay with them. Although neither she nor Milo share that cultural background, Miah's arranged three small Kwanzaa celebrations throughout a decade of being a foster mom. According to Clarissa, Rex’s past two weeks (or at least a week and a half) have been inside the group home. That can’t have been a fun holiday. 

Just the thought of him ending up there prickles at her skin. Group homes are tightly structured, and if you’re only 8 years old and unfamiliar with the outside world, then sharing your space with several other loud children is probably the most scary thing that can happen to you. Miah can’t stand the thought of Rex spending some of his first weeks away from an abusive home in a dreary place like that… even though it probably was necessary when the state couldn’t even figure out where he had come from or why he didn’t exist in the government’s eyes. But it breaks her heart. Not a single family could take in an emergency placement over the holidays? 

I’d have done it in a heartbeat.

Well. Maybe. But Milo’s messy past, freckled with supervillains who used to use his dad’s home as a meeting ground when he and his brothers were young, leaves him unsteady on his feet once supernatural abilities come into play. This is his home too. Honestly, Miah’s a bit overwhelmed herself… by the fact that he said yes. Milo’s stayed faithful and hardworking even when some of their past placements showed small powers, like talking to birds or adjusting light levels, but flight will be new to them. Especially if Rex decides he doesn’t want to talk about it.

This should be interesting.

[Cnt'd on FFN / AO3 - Links at top]