Dadlan & his smol <3

She looks up at him, tilting her head, obviously confused, then she looks down at how far away the ground is and her eyes widen.

"N-No-"

Her head is shaking furiously but she clutches him tighter anyways. He seems to take that as permission to go ahead with his plan because he lets go of the fence and she feels them both fall.

But... Just like every time she's ever found herself in a similar situation, hot air whips around them in a furious burst, pushing up against them desperately. It makes their hair wave around wildly and her palms grow hotter and hotter until she can smell that his jacket is burning where she's holding him.

Then, as fast as it had come, the force disperses, thankfully only when they're a few inches off the ground, dropping them from their floating position in a way that the man bounces at impact a bit but it's not dangerous in the slightest.

He pulls away from her and stares down, making her immediately self-conscious of what she just did, opting to just keep shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it just happens-"

A low siren begins to start and her head snaps up, wide, fearful eyes staring back at the compound on the other side of the fence. Men shout that they see the two of them and the footsteps grow louder. There's even a loud bang and the sound of something whizzing past them, burrowing deep in the earth just off behind them.

"That's a bad sound-"

At this point, she pushes past his jacket entirely and buries herself deep in the fabric until she's all curled up at his shirt to hide from the intensity of the moment. Sirens mean you've been found, you're going to be taken back and hurt, she knows that. On top of that, the loud quick bangs are getting more frequent and closer. It makes her cry a little, letting go of his neck to cover her ears.

"No, no, hey it's okay-"

He tries to assure her that he's not mad, and that much is true. He's simply surprised, shocked, kind of in awe of how good her timing had been. They could have made the fall and gotten up, but it sure wouldn't have felt good.

Then the bullets start, and Dolan's first instinct is to turn around and glare, to start shouting curses at anyone shitty enough to be shooting at a tiny, helpless little girl. But that gut instinct, he knows, is not the one that will keep either of them alive here.

Strangely enough, what he doesn't expect in all of this is when she puts her head down on him and starts to cry. Children cry, he knows this. But something about the way she buries her face into his shirt, her little body starting to heave unevenly, wetting his shirt with her tears. He starts to see red.

He's not fully aware of what he's doing when he gathers their pillow back up and over his arm, lifts one hand to cover her ears the best he can. He keeps whispering shhhh to her, as if somehow that will drown out the rest of the obnoxious and scary noises all around them. It doesn't make sense, but for whatever reason he still does it. He even lets his hand slip across her hair a few times gently, almost comfortingly. He wonders where that inclination had come from.

But he keeps running, and now that they're out of the Umbra compound, there are a lot more places to run, a lot more places to blend in. But, of course, there are some things he knows he won't be able to hide for long. So he hides them behind the edge of a tall ornamental fence for a moment so he can pull the blanket out of the makeshift pillowcase and fold it up, fashion it into something smaller and drape it over her head, as if it's a blanket and she's sleeping.

"Hey, kid. You ever played dress up before?"

He thinks better of his question and just continues on.

"Probably not. That's okay. I'm going to teach you how to play and we're gonna play right now. How does that sound? And.. hey, what's your name, anyway?"

Things still seem loud but she can't tell if that's because she's still terrified, still expecting things to jump out of the darkest shadows because they're actually there or because she's imagining it.

What had he said about dress up? She's not entirely sure she knows what that means. Obviously, she knows the word "dress" and "up," but does that just mean you throw dresses into the sky? Why? Do you try to see who can throw one the highest? It doesn't really make sense but she's learning a lot today so why not add an odd game to the mix?

It still takes her a moment to pull her face from his shirt and she clearly doesn't want to. She goes to do it once then almost immediately shoves herself back against him. The second try comes a few seconds later as if on a delay, but it's more successful.

Tilting her head up, she rests her chin against his chest and stares up at him, sniffling through the tears that still well in her eyes and make her vision blurry, distort his face from her view.

"I'm P-211... S-Sometimes... Sometimes they'd call me Project Phoe... Phe... Fenix?"

Her brow knits, trying to wordlessly ask him if she said it right. He just stares down at her silently, making it impossible for her to tell if he's upset by her answer because she said it wrong or just upset in general.

"What's your name-?"

The only way she knows how to deflect his look of disapproval is to change the topic off of herself quickly, reaching up to furiously wipe at her eyes to looks presentable, just really rubbing her face red int he process. Anything to look better and more put-together.

"I can guess if you want... E-123? Project... Project Eyes? Cuz you have pretty eyes?"

"P-211. You're P-211?"

Dolan has to keep his voice hushed, but it still dawns on him what that means. The lab they'd been ordered to clear out for the client, P-211. The lab for experimenting on... her. The lab exclusively for this Project Phoenix. She is the weapon they'd been paid to retrieve.

Now all the fuss makes much more sense. And makes his heart drop further into his stomach. What kind of a sick bastard pays to have a child, much less a child like this who's never known love or a home or most any of the normal things a kid should in childhood, kidnapped so he can use them as some sort of tool or toy or weapon?

The kind of sick bastards that Dolan will put a bullet in if he ever sees again, that's what kind. He can feel his breathing get heavier and his heart rate pick up as his fury builds, but that's punctuated by the softest of pats as her hand finds its way over his heart.

God. What has he gotten himself into.

"Phoenix, huh?"

He finally manages to say, clearing his throat and sniffing back a bit.

"Please tell me that doesn't mean you do weird stuff with fire, too."

There's not a whole lot of time to figure that part out, because he hears a gunshot from a different direction, realizes it's time to seriously start to strategize their movements. So he holds the blanket down over her head as if he's shielding a sleeping child and winds his way around a dilapidated looking building- some kind of run down shop or something- until they get to the back.

The back door hangs ajar, steam coming from the second story window. He slips inside the building and crouches in the cover of the stairwell immediately to the right. He removes the blanket from her head so he can see her again here where it's a little more safe. Still, he keeps his voice down.

"I'm... my name's Dolan. You can call me whatever you want, though."

The comment about his eyes still plays in his head, and he tries to shake that off. He feels a little pathetic for holding onto that, as if he's never gotten a compliment before. But in a lot of ways, he realizes he hasn't. But. That's a thought for another time, maybe when they're not running for their lives.

"You... what do you want me to call you? I mean, is there any name you like? That you'd wanna be called?"

"I can do fire stuffs, that's what all my tests were on. The people in white said I wasn't very good, not ready to sell yet, but I think I'm really okay at it. B-But I promise I won't burn you, Mister Dolan."

She's still speaking to him, but she's looking all around the stairwell curiously, leaning back in her arms so she nearly falls from his grasp. It makes her panic, flailing for a moment until her hands find his jacket and she can pull herself back up, tucking her head under his chin to let this quick wave of fear die out, too.

What does he mean about a name, though? Were those two options not what he meant or did he not like them? Granted, she had been wrong about his name in every sense of the word, but those titles are all she knows, all she's ever heard.

Well, that's a little inaccurate.

"I used to just be P-211 but then they called me Project Phoenix when I got older. Is this another new name? Am I getting big again? Does everyone get new names when they get big? That's a lot to remember, but..."

Her blue eyes dart around for some sort of inspiration. She's never been given the chance to pick her own name before, it's kind of exciting. Unfortunately, nothing around them matches the moment. She puffs out her cheeks and starts leaning this way and that, hoping a different angle will reveal something to her.

Through the open door, a strange blue-ish light pours in. She tilts to the side as far as she can, following the light up to the source. What she sees makes her gasp, quickly sitting back up to pat at his face over and over again, eyes wide, staring directly up at him.

"Mister Dolan! Hey, what's that? What's that thing up there?"

She leans again, trying to pat his face to follow with her, pointing up at the night sky where a bright full-moon hangs.

"That! I wanna be that! Can that be my name? It's really, really, really pretty."

"You... you wanna be the moon?"

He takes a second to shake his head, backtrack for a second to another important thought that makes itself more prominent.

"You don't know what the moon is?"

Something inside of him, square inside his chest, feels like its stretching. Pulling, pushing, breaking a little. It hurts in an odd immaterial way, in a strange hollow echoing way inside his head, like something is shouting in a cavern inside his chest, excavating at the same time, chipping away at him to make more room inside for something. He's never felt this way before.

"The moon is... like the sun is for the day. Do you... you don't know what the sun is either, do you."

He says it like a statement, nodding at his own conclusion before he's even finished the sentence.

"The sun shines light and makes the day bright. And the moon shines light to make the night not so dark. I guess if you wanna be called the moon, I won't stop you. Not really a common name, but, I guess."

He takes a second as his thoughts derail a bit, and his head cocks to the side on its own.

"Although."

He takes a moment, considering, scanning the ceiling idly as his brain works, on one level coming to his conclusion and on another different one trying to figure out how in cold hell he's going to explain it to her.

"So remember what I was telling you about stories earlier? People like to tell each other stories about how certain things got there. Like how the moon and the sun got in the sky, how they helped people do certain really awesome and great things. And in these stories, there are a lot of people whose names have come to be related to those things. Especially the moon. Like, say... you've got Artemis. Selene, Hecate. Not that I would choose that one if I were you. Uh. Diana, Luna. I could go on. There's a ton of moon-related names for girls, so you can take your pick, really."

While he's talking he finds himself accidentally with a clump of her hair between his fingers, trying to gently work out the huge knot toward the ends of the strands, his eyebrows knit together as he works intently on it. Once he realizes what he's doing, though, he lets it drop back against her back, shaking his head.

"Let's, uh. I'll let you think about that, and until you decide on something, we need to have another talk. So, about playing dress up. We've both got to get into some different clothes so the guys with guns don't recognize us. I'll get some clothes for us, but we have to do a few other things, too."

Something about saying this out loud feels strange and manufactured to Dolan, and although he can tell that this little girl will take anything he says at face value, he hates that he has to be asking this of her, when she clearly doesn't understand any of it to begin with.

"Maybe just... don't call me Mister Dolan. See, someone like me walking around with someone like you might make some other people nervous, like something strange is happening. And we don't want them calling the guys with guns on us. So we need to act like... act like..."

Dolan can't make himself say it, so he abandons it, hoping she'll get the gist of what he means from the rest of what he's said so far. To cover up that blunder, he backtracks slightly.

"So did you decide on a name yet?"

"Hmm...."

She snuggles herself down in his arms, making herself comfortable right where she is, pulling the blanket around her up on her arms. A long yawn escapes her, makes her eyes sag some before she shakes her head to wake back up. It's like his arms at the most comfortable place she can imagine and the sheer comfort of it is luring her to sleep when she doesn't really want to be asleep.

"I like the last one you said. Luna. It sounds pretty and I don't 'member the other ones anyways."

Even just admitting that makes her grin a little, something playful under the layer of sleepiness. The most rebellious, devious, teasing thing she could come up with is to say she doesn't remember what he said and base her decision off of that.

But, hang on, what else had she heard him say, try to explain to her? He had been serious about it but she doesn't get it at all.

She tilts her head, looking back up at him with all the focus she has, patting at his chin because she can't reach his cheek with how she's sunk down.

"Mister Dolan, you don't want me to call you 'Mister Dolan?' What am I supposed to call you? Do you need to pick a new name too?"

The prospect of that makes her face light up, some energy springing back into it suddenly.

"Sun! If I'm Moon, you should be Sun! Are there silly names for the Sun too? I'll be Luna and you can be... Um... Sun... Suna?"

"Uh, I'm not entirely sure that would be any improvement."

The soft, quick pat on his chin draws a smile out of him before he can rein it back in, though. She's hunched down into almost a ball in his arms, this tiny, warm, soft little thing with a sleepy voice and big blue eyes. This isn't how kids are supposed to be, isn't it? They're supposed to be loud and mean and aggressive and push you and taunt you and get joy out of proving how much bigger than you they are.

Maybe he should've allowed his perspective some room to change once he'd gotten older. But he'd always figured that if he started thinking kids were some great thing, he'd want them. And it had become clear to Dolan early on in his adult life that he was ill-equipped to handle children and more accurately probably didn't even want them.

But looking down at her snuggled down in his arms as if they're some feather bed in her eyes, watching her yawn and smack her mouth together, smile through that soft sleepy haze of hers, he can feel something slipping away from him that he can't identify yet. Something that makes him feel like he needs to keep his face hard all the time, needs to keep his eyes down and his voice gruff and always look out for number one.

"Well, Luna. What I was trying to say, and not saying very well, is that if people don't think we're related, then they'll think I kidnapped you and then we'll be in trouble."

Hes not sure how long it will take to explain that even though that's exactly what he's done, it's somehow okay now. That alone makes his head hurt a bit.

"Do you... do you know what relatives are? What a family means?"

Next to nothing he said made any sense. Kidnapping, relatives, family...

"You use funny words."

His deep voice spouting off this nonsense makes her giggle a bit. He's not like all the other big people she's come to know. They used big odd words too but nothing like what he says. Something about how he says the words, they're rough but easy to listen to.

The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes his voice is surprisingly calming. It makes her snuggle down, flipping open his jacket so she can cuddle inside of it, use him like a bet and his jacket like a blanket.

Dolan, or whatever he's trying to say he wants to be called now, doesn't push her around or grab her arms, pull and tug her, just holds her softly. She has no frame of reference to compare this to anything, she's never seen anyone act even remotely like this, so it must just be him. This must just be who he is and she loves it.

"I dunno what a family is... Is it somethin' special? Ooooooh, is that what you want to be called now? 'Family?' I like Dolan or Suna better but if you like Family, I'll call you that."

“Well, no, see ‘family’ isn’t a name for someone. Its more like... the people who you were born to, who love you.”

While he’s saying it even he wants to wave himself off, and when she gives a blank look up a him, he almost snorts drily in his throat.

“Yeah, me too, kid. None of that makes a whole lot of sense. I️ guess the bottom line here is, we gotta pretend like we know each other really well and like we belong together, okay? Can you do that so I️ don’t get in trouble?”

He keeps wanting to use other phrases. Like, so the police don’t come, so I️ don’t get thrown in jail. But he remembers who he’s talking to and keeps rerouting mid-sentence.

She stays snuggled down in his jacket, though, not at all perturbed by where they are or what’s going on. She’d sure bounced back fast after all the bikers and everything, but then again, he knows how resilient kids can be when they have no other choice.

It suddenly strikes him though that the way she’s resting against him is saggy, a little sleepy, and she’s probably used to getting more rest than she had last night. Outside, the sound of shots firing in the streets has quieted and everything sounds generally normal.

It dawns on him that maybe for the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a plan. He hasn’t thought this through a million different ways. And he barely has any money. He sighs a little at that one. This job had been his last ditch effort at setting himself up for a little while. What now?

Well, for now, he can’t think too far ahead of the little girl nearly asleep in his jacket. That would be a good place to start. Maybe they need to lay low for a bit until things settle down. That will give him a chance to figure out what the hell hes going to do.

“Okay, Luna. You keep hanging on there, okay? I’m going to take us in this place and there will be other people. You just keep hugging around my neck like you did before, okay? And don’t call me Dolan, Dont- maybe just don’t say anything for now, right?”

"I can't call you anything?"

Luna looks up at him with a little frown, tilting her head this way and that, but she keeps her arms up around his neck just like he said.

He doesn't feel the need to expand upon that immediately, instead deciding to stand and peek out of the stairwell then continue on. The moon is bright in the sky, illuminating everything in a soft blue glow, highlight the tops of buildings in bright white compared to the dark midnight sky.

No one is really on the streets right now, everything is mostly quiet... Until they start getting closer to a different part of town. Some random dim red lights flicker on the fronts of oddly spaced buildings. The odd sight catches Luna's eye and she stares as Dolan carries her by. There are oddly dressed women in some windows that tap on the glass, try to motion to Dolan, yell something through the glass... Then immediately pause with wide eyes when they take notice of the child in his arms.

Across the street is a small group of men mumbling to themselves, passing around a bag of... Something. They only take a break to wail on a different man that tries to approach them too quickly. The beaten man cries out in pain. One of the men that was part of the group stands and notices Dolan and tries to yell something slurred and incoherent across the street at them. Dolan keeps walking.

All these people want his attention but he isn't stopping or even looking at them. Her eyes flick up to his face but his expression is set, stern, looking ahead as if nothing is happening around them. She doesn't quite get it but, eventually, they make it to a single-floor run down motel building where the main brand sign flickers in and out. It's better than the open sign that can barely light a single letter to save its life.

In the main reception area, a man is sprawled out on the floor, either dead or drugged, while is supposed friend rolls up a dollar quickly, hunching over a line of white on a filthy coffee table. In the opposite corner a woman sits on a man's lap with her bare back towards the door as his hands run along her and they kiss all along each other's necks.

This is definitely a situation she's never been in. Her head whips around almost chaotically to look at everything but she can't piece together what she's seeing. Nor can she ask because he told her not to speak. So, she's left to her confusion in silent, eventually settling on leaning her head back down against him, especially when a hooded man grins at her, waving a dirty hand. She may not understand all of this, but she knows she doesn't like that.

Luna turns her head the opposite direction of the man and closes her eyes as Dolan approaches the main desk.

Dolan feels her stirring at his shoulder and his hand reaches up on its own, finds her head and rests gently there until she lays her head down on his shoulder and he pulls the blanket up enough to shield her eyes.

This has never been the nicest city, will never land anywhere on a list of best vacation destinations, cleanest parks, safest neighborhoods. He’s always known that. But something about the way it looks tonight, the way all it’s worst and dirtiests seems sprawled out right in front of him in such an obvious way. It seems strange, sudden, a little jarring. He cant imagine what she must be thinking. This is all old news to him, but he tries to angle his body away from the worst of it to shield her anyway.

“Hey, I️ need a room. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”

He digs in his pocket and slaps the last bills he has down across the desks, which is the only reason the receptionist turns around, if she can even be called that. She’s chewing her gum with obscenely loud smacks, her jaw opening wide every time, like she’s trying to showcase how wide she can get it.

“Just for one?”

She asks in a nasally, pitiful voice- half sick with something and half trying to flirt with him:

“And a half.”

His voice is flat as ever as he lifts the blanket to flash her just the quickest glimpse of Luna’s small body. He lays his hand overtop the blanket where her ears are as he leans in a little over the desk.

“And please, for the love of god, put me as far away from the crack whores as possible. We both really want to sleep tonight.”

The girl scrunches her nose at him, realizing she’s not going to make any money on the side off him tonight. She rips a room key from a hanging board and shoves it across the table at him.

“The telephones dead, so don’t try placing any calls. And you’re responsible for any damages after the fact. Enjoy your stay.”

She smiles in the ugliest way possible before spinning back around in her chair. Dolan sighs, shaking his head as he grabs the key up and hauls them both and their stuff down the carpeted hall that smells like smoke, cigarette and other varieties, until he finds the room with the corresponding number on the door and pushes the key in the lock.

Once in the room, with the door closed behind them, Luna's head pops up immediately, on high alert now as she takes in the new surrounding. There's a large window to the outside, a narrow door leading to a ... Minimalist bathroom near the front door, a small table and fridge stuffed in a corner with what little floor space there is, and, in the rough center of the room, is one full-sized bed.

The wallpaper is peeling towards the ceiling and the carpet looks like the last deep-cleaning it had was the day this place opened. Luna doesn't care.

Wiggling out of Dolan's grasp, she drops to the floor and runs around the room quickly to investigate everything she can, everything within reach of a small child.

"What's this?"

She points to a small, probably broken, TV on a dresser, but before Dolan can answer, she's moved on to something else. There's a large AC unit pressed up into the wall under the window. Air blows out of the dirty vent on the top of it but she doesn't notice the dust. Sticking her hand in the cool air cautiously, she leaves it there to determine if it's safe. Once she decides it is, she smiles wide, sticking her face in the current so the air pushes around the bits of her hair that aren't tangled.

"This feels really good!"

Why on earth someone left the AC on instead of the heat on this cold night is beyond logic or reason, other than being cheap and saving money. Luna doesn't seem to mind, letting the cool wash over her warm skin.

But, that's about all the attention she can give to that at the moment. She pushes away from the unit and runs to the bathroom area, looking at everything in this whole other room. The tile, the sink, everything- She even flings the shower curtain open and immediately tries to hop up and catch herself on the tub wall just to see inside the bathtub, figure out what it's all about.

"Mister Dolan, what's this-"

That makes her pause. Luna quickly darts to the bathroom doorway, staring over at him with pathetically wide, apologetic eyes, halfway hiding herself from his view with the frame.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you that..."

He falls right back against the bed, sitting at the foot of it, letting his shoulder hunch a little, suddenly feeling the weight of the last twenty four hours like a ton of bricks.

"Huh. And to think, I actually thought you were tired."

His face remains stern, flat and unaffected for a moment before his lips quirk up into the slightest of smiles at her as she runs around. Something about seeing her smile, jumping around like a kid should be, makes him feel a little more relaxed inside. Like some tension finally drains out of him.

"It's fine, you can call me whatever you want when it's just us. I don't mind."

Something about Mister Dolan is still a little strange to him. Mister anything is strange to him. But she says it with such a sweetness and an innocence on her face that he doesn't have the heart to tell her it makes him uncomfortable to be called anything, really. When has he been in a situation recently when he ever needed to be called by his name? Truth be told, it's been a while.

He slings the makeshift pillow case up onto the bed beside him as he starts to sort out what he'd brought with them, hoping something in there will spark what he should do next. But really, all of his instincts and what they'd led him to grab don't really fit the scenario he finds himself in now, a completely new situation that he hasn't had to deal with before. What good is rope and flashlight batteries and multiple empty canteens? He's not on some dark op. He's watching a child hop like a frog across a carpeted floor that probably has more biological material smeared into it than was housed in the whole of BioTech. What in cold hell is he doing.

"Okay, Luna, listen up a second."

She seems so hyper all at once, as if the new environment has so much for her to explore and discover, and the excitement is too much for her to contain in her little body. But she does her best to listen.

"I need to make a list for us. Can you help me remember the stuff I'm about to say?"

He can't believe he's asking that from her, putting that amount of pressure on them both, but she nods right along with him like it's an unexpected but welcome honor.

"Alright. So we both need clothes. I need to find a way to fix... what's going on with your hair so you look like someone, me, has been taking care of you. We need... toothbrushes and stuff, I guess. And the thing I suppose we need most of all is... money."

Dolan's palms stretch out open across the grimy bedspread and he sighs, staring up at the ceiling. It's not like he's at his complete wit's end, here. He's been in this situation before, almost exactly, just minus the stolen child, and he's come back from it easily. He knows how to make money. He knows how to get money without making it. But now that Luna is here, too... he feels like her presence changes the rules.

"Okay!"

She nods to herself over and over again as he talks out his list, smiling proudly once he's done and she feels accomplished. From the bathroom doorframe, she runs over to the bed, smacking her hands up on the top of it to pull at the comforter, hike herself up onto it with him. There's so much force put into it from her small body that, once she's there, she rolls a little from the last effort to sling herself up the rest of the way.

Luna doesn't stay down for long, trying to stand even while she's rolling which only serves to make her wobble on the uneven surface. After a moment of waving her arms about, she stabilizes herself.

"Clothes, small ones for me, big ones for you."

One of her little fingers shoots up and the rest on her tiny hand continue to do the same as she recounts his list for him, a few of her own details mixed in.

"Fix my hair so people think you like me. Toothbrushes and stuffs. Annnnnnnnd money... Whatever that is."

The smile on her face grows when he nods back at her, approving of the general gist of her list. Mission accomplished, she plops down beside him, keeping her gaze trained on him like her next job is just to watch him and take note of everything he does. A job she enjoys very much.

Something about him just draws her in, makes her feel something she's not sure she's ever felt before... What is it? She can't decide. Safe may be the best way to put it. She crawls the short distance between them and curls up to his side again, just like she had been in the warehouse, humming quietly to herself.

"I like you a lot, lots more than anyone. You're way nicer and taller than all the people in the white dresses or the mean man that pulled my hair."

"Well, to be fair kid, I don't think you've met enough people to be an accurate judge of that, but. For what it's worth... thanks."

He finds himself a little confused as she curls up against him again, like no matter what, she just keeps snapping back to his side like some sort of magnet, even though it's barely been hours since they met.

Met isn't even the right word to describe it. There are no right words to describe this. All of it is strange and unanticipated, and that part makes Dolan jittery, makes his foot tap at the floor and his knee jerk up and down in restlessness.

But beyond that, when her warm, small frame is back pressed into him, it makes him feel warm again. Like he's not just sitting out in the open, alone on all sides. He chides himself for that thought. Has he really been so lonely all this time and not noticed it- so lonely that this little kid is making that much of a difference and turning him to mush in what, a few hours? Over what? Hugging him and patting his face a few times and smiling at him? Saying that she likes him? How pathetic is he?

But no matter how stiff he stays from these thoughts, she keeps burrowing deeper into him like it's somehow the most comfortable place she can imagine. He has to remind himself, again, that she doesn't know much about the world, so he just needs to help her out.

"Hey, k- I mean, Luna. There are real pillows up here if you want to try one of those. It's softer than... well, me."

She doesn't move right away, just takes her hand and wrenches it into his shirt again, like she had at the warehouse. He sighs, but something in him feels more satisfied than annoyed.

"You know what, I like you okay too. You're... probably the smallest person I've ever met. Which is nice. And cool. You're pretty snuggly, too. Has anybody ever told you that?"

Of course they haven't, but he doesn't correct himself. Just reaches down to pat her head again.

"Noooooo, people don't use words like that for me."

Luna shakes her head against his side, smiling when she can feel him settle into it rather than tense like he wants to pull away.

"People say stuff like 'P-211 is performing well today' or 'P-211, you need to take this seriously, you know what happens when you fail.' OHHHHHHHHH!"

Her head pops up excitedly, but she makes sure she's still pressed up against him, moving her hand up to her head to grab his. She has to make sure his hand doesn't slip off, that it stays put, because the way he pats her hair down is gentle and good, yet another sensation she's not used to but she wants to get used to.

"My favorite was when they'd tell me 'P-211 was successful today.' Those were the rare days they all thought I did reeeaaaallllllly good and would let me go back to my room early. I liked that. More time to sleep before tomorrow."

He doesn't smile down at her over that the way she smiles brightly up at him which concerns her. Does he know what all of that means?

What... What if he's... That makes her heart drop and her stomach twist into a tight knot, so tight that she can feel her eyes water at just the thought rolling through her head.

"Has no one told you that before? No one told you that you did a good job? I think you do good jobs, really good, extra good."

Her free hand pats at his stomach comfortingly, busy trying to sing his praise, keep his hand on her head, and give him a proud little gentle touch.

"Well, Luna, I can tell you for a fact that it's barely even sun-up and you've already been very successful today."

He finally decides he can, that he's relaxed enough, to lay back against the bed, not thinking about how dirty it feels, his feet still on the floor and his legs bent. His arm immediately goes out to the side to encompass her curled up form beside him, and his hand stays on top of her head thanks to her determination.

He goes to correct her about her assumption, that no one has ever told him he's done a good job, but he takes a second to think it through before realizing, technically, maybe she's right. Of course, there had always been money waiting to confirm that for it, and most of the time money is better than anyone giving him a pat on the back, anyway. Then again, it's not like he would have a ton to compare it to. But he's never felt dissatisfied with it.

That is, until now. She's patting his stomach gently, reassuringly, smiling up at him as if she somehow knows how much of a reward that is already, how that flips some switch inside him that makes him feel... different, in a good way. In a way that he can't really label and hasn't really experienced before today.

"Well, uh. Thanks for that. That's real nice of you to say."

He feels awkward in a weird warm way, like he's using certain vocabulary words together for the first time and doesn't know what to make of it. He's never had a place for niceties like this before, for thank yous and affirming things. Not in the gruff world he weaves in and out of. But they fit here, and they fit with her and her wide smile and her beaming little face.

That has gotten some dirt on it, apparently.

"Oh, hey. Here. You got a little something."

He goes to motion to it, then realizes the fruitlessness of that and pulls the hem of his shirt out, rolling over a little to reach her better as he dabs at the end of her nose with the fabric until the dirt smudge in gone.

"There we go. Nice and shiny again."

The quick touch on the end of her nose makes her jerk her head back quickly, blinking, confused by the touch. Her reaction makes him pause for a moment, staring at her with his arm half extended. Dolan's face is as blank as ever but she can see the smallest of lines between his brow. Had she offended him by pulling away? She didn't mean to but, like with everything, she's just not used to people initiating things like that with her.

To try to save the moment, she pulls his hand and shirt back to his nose for him to continue and, now that she leans more into it, it makes her giggle. Especially when he finishes to admire his work.

"You're silly. People aren't shiny, I'm not shiny! You know what is shiny?"

Luna points right down at his face, her finger colliding with his eyebrow, thankfully missing his eye, though she does apologize still for the close-call before continuing.

"Your eyes are reeeeeeaaaaaaaaaal shiny. Like super extra shiny. Oh! And then moon- Wait!"

The topic jumps abruptly, her head snaps to the window, she even leans herself down against the bed to try to see up at the sky better, eyes darting around. From this angle, the moon is out of sight, either hidden behind other buildings or on the other side of this ones for the rooms across the hall to enjoy.

She sits back with a huff, slowly turning back to him.

"Okay, just your eyes are super shiny. Nothing else."

He's still caught off guard by how excited and hyper she seems to be all at once, almost to the point that it pulls a soft chuckle from him. Almost. There are still other things to consider.

Like how the hell is he going to leave and go... do whatever it is he decides he needs to do to raise the funds for all the things on their list? Does he just leave her here? Like this? Will she climb out of a window, or try to eat something that isn't food? Will she stick her finger in a socket or fall and hit her head? He's never had to consider any of these things before, and now he's not exactly sure how to proceed. It's not like he can put down some newspapers, leave a bowl full of water, and come back with a treat.

Well, maybe the treat part is okay. In the end, he decides maybe it's better off to wait until she's tired herself out, until she's sleeping soundly, for him to slip out. He figures it can't take too long, but seeing as how it's nearly morning and her biological alarm clock is about to go off, he's not extremely hopeful.

Thankfully, it only takes a few hours of letting her ask questions to her heart's content, trotting around the room to point to items and get a name and definition, hardly waiting for one explanation to end before she asks for another. Soon, she's slowing down and Dolan scoops her up mid-step right before she looks like she's going to fall in a heap in the floor.

The bed is dirty, kind of nasty, and he's not sure what residual grime and grit is left on it from the last hundred people who'd stayed there. So he pulls the blankets back, and lays out the ones he's taken from the warehouse, making a sort of cocoon inside the provided blankets. Then again, he knows she'll probably just get hot, so he rips the outer blanket off altogether, wads it in the corner, and doubles up on the blankets laid down across the bed.

He lays her down on top of them, bunching the extra fabric up under her head where a pillow should be. She's already fast asleep, but he finds himself fussing over her a little bit, making sure he positions her in the way that looks the comfiest, pulling the blankets around her without tucking them over her, so that she stays cool but also feels protected. He's not sure where all of these inclinations have come from, but he lets each one of them have their way before he takes one last look to make sure all is well and gathers up what he'll need, closing the door behind him softly.

A bright light pours out over her sleeping face, making her stir, wincing for a moment, before her mind clicks together what that means.

Suddenly, she's trying to scramble up to her feet the best she can before anyone has the chance to grab at her. It's so much easier to wake up and move on her own that it is to have to be pulled out of her small room and shoved to the first test of the morning.

Why did she wake up so late? Usually, she hears all the people in white trickle in the main room outside her door and that gives her enough time to wake up before they come to grab her. How did all of that slip by her today. She's not sure, but what she does know is she doesn't want them to pull her along today, bruise up her arms anymore than a test of theirs is already going to.

Unlike any other morning, getting to her feet is incredibly and oddly difficult. She feels... Stuck in something, wrapped up. In a daze, she tries to kick off whatever this material is, throw it off her little body, but it just tangles around her more. What... What did they do while she was asleep? Is this some other test?

If so, she's failing it miserable. Panic starts to set in at that thought.

In a fit of frustration and pure survival mode, she just flings herself to the side, hoping by some miracle that frees her. It doesn't. It just sends her plummeting- She's falling?

Where is she-

There's no enough time to piece it all together before she hits the floor with a loud thud that jars her.

Her head hits up against the large AC unit under the window at the angle she landed on the floor, immediately shooting pain through her head. Tears start to well in her eyes but she doesn't let herself openly cry. They hate that, they hate it when she cries.

Instead, she just bites the inside of her cheek and works to throw the blanket off of her the best she can, somehow managing to free herself this time around. Luna sniffles as she stands, trying to ignore the throbbing at the back of her head.

Wait... This is...

Last night starts to come back to her bit by bit. This isn't the small room nor the big main room, not even a test room-

"M-Mister Dolan?"

Her wet blue eyes wildly sweep the room looking for any sign of him.

Dolan is halfway up the hall of the dingy motel when he hears the thud followed by her voice. Her tone tells him that she's scared, panicked a little, but she's not screaming. He'll be there in just a minute, it'll be okay.

But his brain doesn't listen to any of that reason. Instead, he bolts the rest of the way down the hall, rams the keycard in so hard he almost breaks it, and throws the door open so hard it rumbles the wall behind it.

"Hey- hey, kid, you were supposed to be sleeping."

Dolan only stops himself when he gets right up to her, helping nudge the blanket even further from her with his foot. He holds back from reaching out immediately, telling himself there's no need to overreact. Still, he squats down beside her and starts to feel her head gingerly, looking at the blanket and where she's standing and realizing what's taken place. There's a goose egg growing near the back.

"We better get some ice on that."

He picks her up and sets her back on the foot of the bed, holding her there for a moment.

"Sit real still. Don't fall this time."

He holds a finger up to indicate that he'll be back when he slips out the door again, returning a few minutes later with a plastic bag filled with crushed ice, tied tightly at the top. He joins her on the foot of the bed, holding the ice for a moment as he hesitantly explains.

"This... is not gonna feel really good. But if you let me hold this where it hurts, it will help it feel better faster. Okay? You want me to hold it, or you want to hold it?"

With a bit of stubborn childish pride, pride that makes her want to try to redeem herself after fumbling around like an idiot, she reaches for the bag. The moment her hand comes in contact with the cold contents, the ice begins to rapidly melt, steam even starts filling the bag and making it swell. Luna immediately yanks her hand away at the sight, glaring down at it.

"... You can do it."

She's clearly not pleased to ask for his help right after causing a scene, but she's not sure what else she can really do.

Dolan gently reaches around and places the bag on her head where it hurts the most. He wasn't kidding about it hurting. She closes her eyes tightly, hands on her lap gripping at the hospital gown tightly, shoulders up and tense, but she tries to keep any noises of pain contained.

Even more confusingly is how, after the initial shock, it starts to feel... Good. It cools down the spot of her head from being feverish-hot for a moment and the sensation is odd but wonderful. Not that she can bring herself to push her head back harder to the ice, it still does hurt, butshe tries to use this to help her work her shoulders down so they aren't up by her ears.

"I-I'm sorry I fell."

Her little voice quivers, voice trembles, afraid she's failed him or a test, upset him like she knows she's prone to do with the other grown-ups in her life. If he's mad at her, she's not sure what she'll do. Dolan is the closest thing she's had to a happy, fun relationship she's enjoyed, wouldn't it just be her luck to ruin it all now.

It takes a second of staring at the back of her head with the slightest frown before he thinks to answer.

"I... I'm sorry you fell too. This looks like it really hurt. I shouldn't have left you with so many blankets to get all tangled up in."

He leaves that train of thought there, because heaven knows that even though he won't let it out verbally, he's already there mentally, careening through all of the terrible things that could have happened. And still, even how he could have avoided what had happened. Simply, just by being less irresponsible. God, he can barely look after himself. This little girl doesn't deserve this, whatever kind of pseudo-care he can conjure out of himself.

"Uh, well. We gotta keep this on your head for now. But after about twenty minutes we can take it off. Then we should probably change clothes. I got you some new ones, I should have asked you what colors you liked. I just got whatever seemed like it would be best. Don't really know what I'm doing there."

He almost chuckles at having admitted that out loud, to the kid he's supposed to be looking after, but if the last few hours they've spent together are any indication, maybe it'll just go over her head. Or at least, he's hoping it will.

"Well. We've got twenty minutes. You wanna... get comfy somehow? Turn the tv on?"

One eyebrow shoots up when he realizes he's probably stumbled upon pure gold here.

"You... have never watched tv before, have you? God, are you gonna love this."

Luna tries to sniffle back the remaining tears that are still trying to spill out of her eyes all while sitting as still as possible so she doesn't have to be anymore of a bother for Dolan. She's a little disappointed in herself over what a scene she's caused already.

If she were back in the metal place with all the faces she's used to seeing... Today would be one of those days she'd probably wish she'd fail one of those tests so bad that they would dispose of her somehow. She's seen them take failed experiments away, she's just never had the fortune of being one of them.

So... Why isn't Mister Dolan upset with her like those other grown-ups would be? He doesn't really make a lot of sense, goes against all her working knowledge of people.

"... What are colors?"

Her eyes flick up to him sheepishly, yet against embarrassed but this time because he has to teach her yet another thing. A thing that sounds so seemingly simple at that.

What happens if she annoys him too much? Will he get rid of her? Finally be mad at her?

That thought in mind, it stops her from continuing, from answering his question and telling him she has no clue what a tv really is. That could be the final straw for all she knows. It's best to stay quiet and look down at her lap silently now.