He lagged after her, his easygoing mirth gone in a split-second. Of course. She'd known he'd get pissy. Amber sighed. She'd done her part: told him that she had not, in fact, missed that gaping hole in their conversation, and told him she wouldn't demand answers. And he'd done his, becoming haughty and defensive at the invasion of his precious space. It wasn't a great situation, but now he knew what she was thinking, and now they could sidestep that roadblock. She was glad the carnival's noise level had risen, with loud adolescent conversations and the off-key singing of at least a couple drunks.
And that's when Eric took her by surprise. His lips had been pressed so tight she couldn't believe he'd opened them. To say that. So it had been about that brother-- Marcus. Amber nodded, listening, waiting for him to go on. The stealing thing, he'd mentioned it last evening.
What followed next-- she didn't even know what to think. It was a lot to take in one go. Amber had treated all kinds of patients, punks who'd end behind bars eventually and stunted adults who'd come out (some of whom would be back before long). Addicts, thieves, murderers-- she'd treated them all. Didn't like them, disdained them for fucking up so badly. Amber couldn't forgive someone for messing up to that extent. Didn't understand how anyone would ever let that happen to themselves; how could you just let yourself lose at life? It was her turn to slow down until they came to a complete stop, in the middle of a busy path.
When Eric told her about being caught, it'd been easy to wave it off as a minor incident. Over a decade later, so accomplished as to be essentially be her *boss*, it was a blip in his history, ultimately as insignificant as his first loose tooth. Sure it must've shaped him, must've contributed to how hard he now tried to prove himself. But Amber too, she always wanted to put her best foot forward, and she’d never been in court. He'd fucked up, but he'd gotten his act together enough to come out winning (even if he was in the middle of a career slump). The end result was all that mattered to Amber. She didn't care how Eric had gotten here, as long as he had.
But his brother. In prison. For breaking and entering. If he'd been Eric's age, more or less, then-- shit. He'd been there a while. Might be there for much longer yet. Eric's distress came through loud and clear as he spat out his words; it made her tighten her grasp over his hand, and she wasn't sure why. If she was holding on to him, or clenching up inside. The ruckus around them seemed louder, too; the lights, brighter. His eyes shone with fury.
"Fuck," Amber said quietly. Eric wasn't his brother. She couldn't fault him his mistakes, his fate. But family reflected you. Her brothers drove her crazy but she could talk about them with pride, show off how successful they were; it made her look better. She looked at Eric, the tinge of worry in the lines of his face. And she realized: she hurt. It hurt to hear this. She didn't know the reason for that, either, just that her heart ached, suddenly. "I can see why. I’m so sorry."
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And that's when Eric took her by surprise. His lips had been pressed so tight she couldn't believe he'd opened them. To say that. So it had been about that brother-- Marcus. Amber nodded, listening, waiting for him to go on. The stealing thing, he'd mentioned it last evening.
What followed next-- she didn't even know what to think. It was a lot to take in one go. Amber had treated all kinds of patients, punks who'd end behind bars eventually and stunted adults who'd come out (some of whom would be back before long). Addicts, thieves, murderers-- she'd treated them all. Didn't like them, disdained them for fucking up so badly. Amber couldn't forgive someone for messing up to that extent. Didn't understand how anyone would ever let that happen to themselves; how could you just let yourself lose at life? It was her turn to slow down until they came to a complete stop, in the middle of a busy path.
When Eric told her about being caught, it'd been easy to wave it off as a minor incident. Over a decade later, so accomplished as to be essentially be her *boss*, it was a blip in his history, ultimately as insignificant as his first loose tooth. Sure it must've shaped him, must've contributed to how hard he now tried to prove himself. But Amber too, she always wanted to put her best foot forward, and she’d never been in court. He'd fucked up, but he'd gotten his act together enough to come out winning (even if he was in the middle of a career slump). The end result was all that mattered to Amber. She didn't care how Eric had gotten here, as long as he had.
But his brother. In prison. For breaking and entering. If he'd been Eric's age, more or less, then-- shit. He'd been there a while. Might be there for much longer yet. Eric's distress came through loud and clear as he spat out his words; it made her tighten her grasp over his hand, and she wasn't sure why. If she was holding on to him, or clenching up inside. The ruckus around them seemed louder, too; the lights, brighter. His eyes shone with fury.
"Fuck," Amber said quietly. Eric wasn't his brother. She couldn't fault him his mistakes, his fate. But family reflected you. Her brothers drove her crazy but she could talk about them with pride, show off how successful they were; it made her look better. She looked at Eric, the tinge of worry in the lines of his face. And she realized: she hurt. It hurt to hear this. She didn't know the reason for that, either, just that her heart ached, suddenly. "I can see why. I’m so sorry."