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[skitter]

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[littleonewhosteals]

Oh sorry. Did you want another fucking warden?

I'm coming to bring you your stupid fucking file.

[skitter]

Do you have any cookies left?

[littleonewhosteals]

No, but I still have some spider web sugar. The - uh blue candy fluff. From the park.

[skitter]

Cotton candy. Share?

[littleonewhosteals]

Fuck yeah. I've got it. Anything else while I only have two fucking hands?

[skitter]

No, I'm all good.

Just. Can I look at it before you read it?

[littleonewhosteals]

Because that's not fucking suspicious.

I'll be there in a few minutes.

[skitter]

Taylor's up and dressed and making tea by the time he arrives, if still a little sleep-disheveled. And she looks calm. But the bees in the yard do not.

[littleonewhosteals]

He definitely notices the bees. He's been around long enough to notice small things like that. "Does tea pair with cotton candy?" he wonders, setting the bag on the table along with her file.

"Just so we're all clear, I asked the Admiral for an audio copy of your file," he tells her. "So you can read it first all you want. You can fucking have this one if you want. But uh - I have my own copy."

[skitter]

"Tea pairs with everything." She pushes a cup towards him, eyeing the file like it might bite. She's wanted to see it for months, but now...

[littleonewhosteals]

Rags takes the tea cup and sighs. "Look, whatever you're worried about that's in there? I'm going to hear about it. And whatever the fuck it is? Isn't going to change what I think about you. You worked too fucking hard to force me to be your friend. I'm not going back on that now. So you might as well just tell me in your own words and not the Admiral's."

[skitter]

She sits, elbows on the table and both hands wrapped around her cup.

"It's- partially that. I've- been involved in some messed up stuff, and I talk around the edges of it a lot. But I'm also afraid it'll... answer a few questions. The kind I don't ask myself."

[littleonewhosteals]

"Yeah, and the last thing we want to do is to answer hard questions," he says, leaning across the table slightly.

"You want to read it out loud or just sit there quietly to yourself while I stare at you?" he wonders, pushing the file towards her. But, he softens a bit, keeping his hand on it as he speaks. "This part is fucking hard, Taylor. This was the worst part with Kaz. And he was practically a fucking stranger then. I'm your friend, at least. And we've got all the fucking time in the world."

[skitter]

She touches the corner of it, thumb riffling the pages. She's pretty sure this would be easier with a stranger.

"I'll- skim it first. I just have to see if something is in here."

[littleonewhosteals]

He lifts his hand from it and picks up the cup of tea, opening the bag of cotton candy.

Huh, she's right.

It does go with everything.

He'll let her look for whatever she wants.

[skitter]

Taylor pulls the file to her, and starts flicking through the pages. It's in chronological order, so she doesn't have to get far to know - it's not here.

Whatever rubric the Admiral uses to tally up the things she's been responsible for in her life, her mother's death doesn't fall under it. She shuts it again, taking a shaking breath, and scrubs a hand across her eyes.

"Okay."

[littleonewhosteals]

He watches her a moment. "Okay? So. What were you looking for?" he wonders.

[skitter]

"My mom's not in here." She exhales, shoulders squaring as she works on collecting herself. "Her car accident."

[littleonewhosteals]

"Why do you think she'd be in there?" he wonders. "Or no - I mean. Why do you think she's not?"

[skitter]

Taylor tilts her head, still fiddling with the corners of the file. "It's just- this breach and the small town one brought up... mom stuff. And my dad- so I was worried it would be in here.

"I was supposed to call her, at a certain time, and I didn't. So she was trying to call me, while she was driving, and she got in a wreck. It's not- like, I worried her. But I didn't force her to keep driving while she tried to get in touch. It's not reasonable that it was my fault. Still kind of was, though. But not in a 'I did it' way. I guess this agrees."

[littleonewhosteals]

He doesn't really understand, not in the way he should, and that's a little frustrating, but he tries his best.

"Yeah, that wasn't your fucking fault. You can't control other people's actions and shit. Just like -"

He swallows hard. "Just like Dane."

[skitter]

She nods, and while she doesn't take his hand, she does move hers over to bump against his.

"So this isn't going to list stuff that just... isn't my fault."

[littleonewhosteals]

"I guess?" he mutters. "I don't know. My file was just a rundown of my fucking life," he explains. "Yours might be different."

[skitter]

"Yeah. There's that-" She opens it again, turning the first two pages back and forth. "Happy, boring first-world childhood - one best friend, camp every summer. Nothing to complain about. Every privilege in the world."

[littleonewhosteals]

"Yeah? And then?" he presses, because there's always a "-but" in those kinds of stories. Rags' own story was just one tragedy after another. T's is different.