the new season 5 pics look like Etta woke up from a bad dream and her parents wanna give her cuddles but they’re not sure if that’d be weird at her age.
Reblogging again because ten minute fic:
Etta thrashed in her sleep, which would have woken Olivia up had she not already been up.
Her daughter’s legs kicked furiously, pounding against the hard floor she was sleeping on.
Her brow furrowed, her hands clenched into fists, and her head shook back and forth as she grew more and more distressed.
She looked so much like the little three-year-old Olivia remembered. Etta had gone through a phase of severe night terrors, and every night at 3am, it began. Like clockwork, Olivia had gone to sit by her daughter’s bed, wiping the child’s hair off her face as she grew more and more agitated.
While the pediatrician had confirmed what Olivia reluctantly knew (it was a phase, it would pass, and trying to comfort her would not help), every instinct in Olivia, as a mother, told her to wrap her arms tight around her baby and never let go.
That helplessness was all too common in her life, and Olivia had made a promise a long time ago that it would never affect her daughter.
Only it had.
Her child had to become a warrior, so like them, and now, they were only newly reunited, and Etta was an adult. She didn’t need her mother to soothe her, and Olivia could only imagine how long she’d gone without a maternal figure.
Peter placed his hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
It had only been a day. Their daughter barely knew them, they had no right to even hug their child anymore.
Rationally, Olivia knows this, but she can’t resist sitting on the edge of Etta’s blanket.
Just in case. Just in case she needed her mom.
“No! You can’t take her, I just got her back!”
“No! Mom!” The last word was said on a scream as Etta’s blue eyes, so like her father’s, flew open.
Wild-eyed and terrified, her blonde hair sticking to patches of sweat on her cheeks, her eyes finally landed on Olivia.
“Mom,” she breathed, “Mom, you’re alive.”
And Olivia couldn’t resist reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear.
Etta grabs onto her so fast she can barely hold her balance as she is tugged into her daughter’s arms.
Like a little girl, Etta buries her face in Olivia’s chest, and she is completely at a loss for what to do.
Her daughter’s hiccups and light sobs still resound through the mostly empty attic.
“They-they took you away, Mom. They beat you, they said they would kill you and make me watch, and I couldn’t stop them! I tried, I tried so hard, Mom, but…”
And almost on their own, Olivia’s arms wrap tightly around her twenty-four year old child, stroking her hair and soothing her as if she were still three. As soon as Etta’s grip lessens, Olivia moves her hands to her daughter’s cheeks, stroking her hair back and pressing a kiss to the wetness of her cheek.
“It’s okay, baby,” she whispers in her daughter’s ear. “I’m here, I’m never leaving you again.”
Etta only holds on tighter.
I can’t- Forgot how to can- ALL THE CREYS. SO PAINFUL BUT SO BEAUTIFUL.