Dadlan & his smol <3

“C-colors?”

Dolan pauses, halfway stretched out to reach for the remote. He can feel his brow start to pull a bit in the middle. There’s a lot that she doesn’t know, that seems only natural for someone her age, with her upbringing. But colors?

“Well you know...”

How in the world does he explain this one? He looks around the room, trying to give his mind something to latch onto.

“Well colors are like... you know how different foods have different tastes? Colors are like different tastes, but for your eyes when they look at things.”

He grabs as the blanket hanging off the edge of the bed and holds it up by the tail.

“You know how something about this looks the same as something about the sky right now?”

He points out of the window, where a tiny slice of light blue sky is visible from in between broken blinds.

“That thing that looks the same is called color. And the color of the sky and this blanket is blue. Like the color of your eyes. And mine.”

Now, he draws his hand up under the ratty edges of her hair, reminding himself that he needs to somehow find a way to clean her hair up, too.

“The color of your hair is purple. Mine’s black. Make sense?”

"Ooooooh-"

Luna stares up at him with wide eyes, nodding along as she listens to his explanation, trying to follow where he directs her gaze. It's all seemingly simple.

At first.

The more she looks around and continues to try to frame the world she sees into these new guidelines, however, the less sense it makes. Her brow furrows and she stares up at him.

"Mister Dolan... Your eyes aren't the same color as that blanket. Yours are... Hm... Um. More like ice? Is ice a color or is it just the freezy stuff?"

Wait. What did he say-? Did he just mention that their eyes are the same color? That makes her gasp a little, standing up on the bed quickly which... Only makes her head throb more from hitting it. She sinks to her knees clutching her head as he puts the bag of ice back against her hair with a sigh.

She can't help but be excited though! Something the two of them have in common? That's too good to be true. What are the odds?

"So- So my eyes are blue too? Like- They're ice like yours? I have blue eyes like you? How do I look? I wanna see my eyes- W-Wait, how have you ever seen your eyes to know they're blue? I can't see mine... Is that just a thing grown-ups do?"

She gets all excited all at once, which he wasn’t expecting. It pulls a little smile from him before he clears his throat and tries to keep explaining with an even voice.

“Well there are lots of different colors, and each color has lots of different kinds that are the same, but just a little different. Like my eyes are light blue. And yours are... like the color of blueberries. Not that you’d know what those are. Hmm... hold on.”

He scans the room, finds what he’s looking for, and gently gathers her up in front of him, arms wrapped around and under her, carrying her and her ice pack slowly over to the other side of the room. Beside the rickety closet with the broken door is a long, skinny, cloudy mirror leaning against the wall. He walks close to it so she can see her reflection, close enough that she can reach out and touch.

“There you go. That’s a mirror. It helps you see yourself. I’ve seen a mirror before so that’s how I️ know what color my eyes are. So now you can look at yours too.”

In the mirror she sees the man she's been traveling with for a day now but copied. Two of them...? She reaches her hand out to touch this separate Dolan but her hand hits a barrier. Like a glass door maybe? The action draws attention to the small hand reaching out to her equally small hand. Eyes trailing up, they land on a pale, dirty face.

A tiny girl with big eyes and ratty hair stares back at her. Luna can't help but notice she has the same hair color as this new girl- Purple, she thinks Dolan said it was. She tries to touch this new child but her hand hits the same glass wall at the same exact time the other girl's hand does. That prompts her to try piecing things together, moving her arm this way and that, tilting her head, noticing the second Dolan has an ice pack held to the other girl's head like first Dolan has to her own. Things start to fall in line quickly after that.

Quickly and disappointingly. She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, ripping her head to the side to glare up at her Dolan on this side of the weird reflective object, eyes narrowed.

"My eyes don't look anything like yours! You lied to me. Yours are pretty and bright but mine are dark. They don't even look like the same color."

A bit indignantly, she folds her arms in front of her, kicking her legs back in forth the same way a cat flicks its tail to indicate annoyance.

"I want my eyes to be like yours. How do I change mine? Yours are pretty."

“See, that’s where your wrong. Yours are pretty. Every girl in every magazine or movie or anything that people think is perfect and pretty- almost always have eyes just like yours. Lots of people would kill for your color eyes.”

He stops to consider that maybe his phrasing hasn’t been sensitive enough for the present company, but he tries to roll through, keep going quickly so as not to call out his own error and give her something to ask that he wouldnt know quite how to explain.

“See, light eyes like mine aren’t as great. People think they’re weird. Don’t like eyes like mine looking at em. You know what your eyes look like? Deep out ocean. And that’s a calming thing that makes people happy. So just remember that. You can make people happy when you look at them and smile.”

He doesn’t know where all that comes from, just feels the need well up inside him to reassure her and make her feel valid, to make sure that the first perspective she’s ever probably had on herself is a positive one.

“But any way you slice it, my eyes are blue and yours are blue. There are a lot of different kinds of blue. But they’re all still blue. How about... you see anything else in here that you think is blue?”

"Anymore blue stuff...?"

Her shoulders sag a little as she looks back around the room, giving up on the idea that she can change the color of her eyes. He hadn't told her a way to do it which must mean there is no way, to her complete and utter disappointment.

Even though her eyes are scanning, nothing really seems to click. If the difference between her eyes and his, his eyes and the dark blanket, can all be considered blue, then how is she even supposed to take a guess? Anything could be blue.

"U-Um... That has blue on it...?"

She points to a vase on the small table in the corner of the room. It's main color is white but, at the center, a bright royal blue stripe cuts across it. It looks similar enough to the feeling of everything else he's pointed to that it's the best guess she has, though she definitely doesn't expect it to be right.

But how come in all his explanations he brings up something else that doesn't make sense? Some other new information she has to irritate him with as she begs him to share definitions and descriptions.

"What's the ocean? You said my eyes look like it, but what is it?"

The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them and before he really even has a chance to tell her if she was right about the old dingy vase in the corner.

“I️ knew I️’d eventually get to something I️ didn’t catch first.”

He chuckles lightly, really just a few breaths puffed out, as he takes her back over to the bed to sit. He tries to set her down beside him, but she wriggles and squirms until he leaves her be to sit on his lap.

“Okay. Well, first of all, yes. That vase has some blue in it. And the ocean. Well.”

His mind runs through several different options, none of which succeed in sounding calming instead of scary. Why had he picked the ocean? It had been the first thing to pop into his mind besides blueberries. Its not like he eats blueberries or goes to visit the ocean that much. Hardly ever, even. But still, these things seemed the immediate perfect match.

“The ocean is a lot of water. And there are animals who live in the ocean that are really brightly colored, and different looking, and under the water, nothing walks. Everything swims. Which is like, if you imagine walking, but smoother. Really graceful and elegant. I’m sure you’d be great at swimming.”

Hes sure that’s the next thing she’s going to ask, so he peers around into the tiny bathroom to check the state of the bathtub. Its there, at least. Dingy but probably functional. He shakes his head at himself, though. What she needs is to rest, not be taking in information like a sponge like this. She’s clearly inquisitive, starving to know things, and Dolan doesn’t mind that. He remembers, as a child, being insatiable with questions, and having no one really with patience enough to answer them all.

So he wants to answer them all for her. But maybe after the swelling on her head goes down.

“You know what, I️ wonder if we can find something about the ocean on tv. You’ve never seen tv, right? Well just watch this. You’re gonna love it.”

He grabs the remote finally and points it toward the old body thing and it springs to life, static flicking across the screen periodically as he flips through channels.

There really are no words to describe what she's seeing. When he first mentions the tv, she just gives it a glance over her shoulder, really not interested in it, more curious about what he knows and his answers to things. The instant the box comes to life and all the pictures start to flip, that's when everything starts changing.

She squirms on his lap to turn around to face it in full, eyes wide, trying to take it all in. Sometimes he presses a button and the image changes which just blows her away like each time is the first time he turned it on.

Suddenly, being on his lap isn't even good enough. Climbing down right off of him, she hops over to the dresser, hands on the edge so she can pull her chin up to see over it at the tv that now towers above her.

"How are all these things in this small box?"

It's a bit of an absent-minded question, something that is definitely on her mind, but more towards the back. The front of her mind is too preoccupied trying to take everything in.

One time he click flips to people making and preparing food which immediately has her full attention, swallowing as different dishes are plated.

"No, don't change it! I like this!"

She's never seen anything as close to as appetizing as what she's seeing now. Things have color and texture, not just gross gloopy white much. And... The people on the screen seem to be enjoying eating them. The last thing she enjoyed was that jerky Dolan gave her last night but even that seems to pale in comparison to what's on the screen.

Her mouth is watering.

"Mister Dolan! Mister Dolan, how do we get that stuff? Can we just take it out of the box?"

Finally turning back to him but only out of the necessity to demand food, her expression is a little desperate as a soft growl comes from her thin, tiny abdomen.

“Yeah, better not do any reaching inside that box. Its just a screen with a bunch of wires, nothings actually in it.”

At the rumble of her belly, he realizes it’s been a while since she’s last eaten. And after all the excitement she’s been through, she’s probably doubly hungry. He mumbles a little to himself about how the tv had been a bad idea, now she’ll only want gourmet dishes and five star restaurants.

He leans down beside the bed and pulls the bags he’s brought in around to the foot of the bed where he can see them better. Clothes in one, groceries in a few others, some other supplies in a few more.

“Okay, listen. I’ve got food, but I️ hate to tell you, it’s not gonna look as good as that stuff. Chances are that’s not even food anyway. Its probably fake just so it looks better... don’t think too hard about that, it’s not important.”

He tries to weasel his way out of explaining that to her as he rummages in the grocery bags. He’s gotten several frozen dinners, packs of fruit, and a few other things. And, out of sheer curiosity for whether or not she’d like them, he’d also gotten a few experimental food items.

Really, he should plug the tiny, dirty microwave in and heat up the frozen meals, but he’s too curious himself now to go straight to that.

“Hey, Luna. Wanna come try this?”

First, he pulls a bag of cheetos out and opens it, crunching one between his fingers before offering the whole bag to her.

"Oh-!"

The distance between them is gone in an instant as she runs back over to him, colliding into his legs, quickly wrapping her arms around his calves to keep herself in place. Well, she wraps an arm around one of his calves, her other hand instinctively reaches up with a grabby little hand at the bag, eyes wide with curiosity the moment he pulled some small orange thing out of it and crunched it.

She's not sure if she's imagining it, but he looks at least somewhat amused down at her, letting her have the bag so she doesn't have to struggle for it anymore. Or maybe he's annoyed because she decides to stand on the tops of his shoes to give her a boost up to get closer to the bag.

Emotions are still really hard to read.

But, with her prize in hand, she lets go of his leg and plops down on the ground between his feet, peering into the bag. A seemingly endless amount of those same little orange things rest inside.

There's a dusty smell to them, but not like old dust on a table or the dingy smell of her old closet-sized room. This smells vastly more appealing than all of that.

Impatient with her own musings, she grabs one out of the bag and bites it in half, slowly chewing over it.

"Crunchy!"

Each bite of her teeth into it makes another satisfying crunch sound until the crisp texture of it begins to melt in her mouth. That only prompts her to shove the other half of it in her face.

"Mister Dolan-"

Luna reaches to his pants' leg quickly, tugging on it as if his attention had time to drift from her to something else. Her fingers leave orange on the fabric which shocks her, prompting her to stare down at her hand and see her fingertips have that dusty orange and yellow to them. As an example of what her question was going to be anyways, she holds her hand up so he can see her palm and fingers.

"What's this? What's this stuff?"

He sits back once he's handed the whole bag to her, against his better judgment but, hey, the worst that can happen is that they make a mess. And that's not the most horrible thing they have to worry about right now.

He presses his lips together as he watches her, every movement she makes simultaneously fast and slow, excited and inquisitive and surprised, her little eyes widening and her face pinching with all these new expressions as she's experiencing things she's never seen before.

It gives him this strange feeling in his chest, trying to imagine what must be going through her head, how she must be reasoning through all of this. But trying to understand the foundation of this situation throws him for a loop and he has to come back to reality, clearing his throat to answer her. How she'd just decided to fully trust this strange man who'd actually been sent to deliver her like a package to the highest bidder. Dolan hasn't seen a lot of innocence in his life, but this amount of it just makes him want to sit back and study it.

"That. That's cheetos. They're like... okay, remember back last night I gave you some chips? These are like a kind of chips, just different. That powdery stuff is cheese. I'm sure you don't know what cheese is, but I just need you to know that cheese doesn't normally look like this. This is special cheese."

His brain wants to launch into a full description of how this is chemically-pumped cheese designed to make their arteries turn on them and kill them, designed to get them addicted and then eat themselves to death, but in the interest of that innocence he's so fascinated by, he lets that go.

She's holding the bag a little slack, still awed by this experience, so he reaches into grab one, pops it into his mouth, and then taps the end of her nose with his dusty finger, leaving a round orange dot on the tip of her nose. His lips twitch a bit before he gives in to a full smile.

"You can have 'em all. Just go for it. After this, we'll see about changing into clean clothes, okay?"

"There are lots of types of cheeses?"

That seems unnecessary but she loves the idea of it. The thought that there is so much of one thing... She wonders if they all look like these cheetos, just taste different.

"Can we try some? Let's try all the cheese!"

Not that she's feeling especially hungry anymore. She's already made it through half the bag and she can feel her stomach telling her to stop.

But... He told her to eat all of it, didn't he? She's not used to this much food, what is she supposed to do? Her stomach makes a little protesting noise but she pushes on anyways, shoving a few more of the chips in her mouth at once. If she can get through it quickly, maybe that will be better, her stomach won't even have time to notice it's getting too full.

After a couple attempts of this, it's painfully clear that this plan isn't going to work for her. Luna looks down into the bag for a long silent moment before folding it over and running over to a nearby dresser. She yanks a drawer open and stashes the rest of the chips inside.

"For later. That can be what we eat tomorrow. We've already eaten today's food."

As proud as she always is when she feels like she's given him some great life advice, she smiles the whole way back over to him. With her orange dusty hands, she tugs on his pants leg, as if he wasn't already looking at her, trying to get and then keep his attention.

"Mister Dolan, yesterday you said you needed to get food, clothes, and money. You told me to remember all that for you. Do you need to get anymore stuff?"

"When don't we need to get more stuff."

Dolan mutters it under his breath to himself, a little bogged down at the details of it all. There will need to be more food for tomorrow, more money eventually. Probably even a new place to stay soon. They can't stay here forever, especially when there are going to be people looking for them. Very persistent people. People who will find them if they stay still for too long.

"Good memory, though. Look at you."

It puts a smile on his face and helps ease the weight of everything else to see her with that proud little look, albeit surrounded by Cheeto dust all over her face.

"Well, we'll worry about the more stuff later. For now, let's maybe get some of this cleaned up."

He grabs a hand towel from the bathroom sink and wets it, holds it up to her face and starts dabbing gently until he's gotten every last trace of the cheese powder off her face and her hands.

"Okay. So I brought back some clothes, I hope they fit. They should fit. They're not the fanciest or anything, I just got stuff that seemed like you'd be able to move okay in it."

He pulls out the bag he'd brought in with him next, removing a few different outfits from it- a few small little jumpsuits in bright colors, a loose little casual dress. It had felt weird to be picking out such small, vibrant clothes when he normally stuck to neutrals and practical things for himself. But it had felt... wrong to try and put her in that kind of thing. He's not sure why, but he hadn't been able to do it.

He spreads the outfits out on the bed for her to see and then moves around to sit on the other side of the bed with his back turned to give her some privacy so she doesn't feel weird.

"You pick out the one you want to wear for now and change into it, okay?"

Luna nods and quickly looks at the assortment of clothes, picking up each outfit to look over carefully. There's one piece that kinda looks like the gown she's wearing, just with more colors and life.

But there are things that have long sleeve-things where she's assuming her legs will go. There's a comfortable looking one with a color she doesn't know, but a nearly identical one lays beside it in light blue. She knows that color. That's the one she's going with.

It takes her a long moment to figure it out, shuffling around behind his back, pacing as she tries to figure out how exactly to start pulling this thing up on her legs. With a lot of small, annoyed huffs and little mumbles and grumbles, she finally gets it on.

Now she has a new problem. Her long hair is all stuck down in it, even poking out of the short cap-sleeves over her shoulders. She tries to reach her hands around through her hair to pull it out but several knots catch on a button towards the neckline of the outfit.

"Ow, ow, ow- Mister Dolan, I'm stuck-!"

The harsh pulling she feels against her matted hair makes her eyes water, has her running around to stand in front of him, trying to show him the problem as quickly as possible.

"S-See? It hurts-"

The sound of the panic in her voice jostles him, but it feels strange to just turn all the way around while she's changing. But then she's padded over to him, her footsteps uneven and strange and when he sees how she's gotten herself all tangled up, he leans over immediately from the edge of the bed to his knees to try and figure this situation out the best he can.

"I knew there was something I forgot. We need to get this hair of yours cleaned up right, don't we?"

He doesn't have a lot of experience in things like this, so his fingers feel clumsy trying to unwind the matted sections of her hair from around the buttons. He should have thought of this earlier for sure. It takes some effort to free her from the pull of her hair, and then a bit more time to pull it out of the outfit so she can move her head freely again.

Then he works to start buttoning all the closures, look her over and make sure everything else is in order. Huh. All except for the hair, she looks... like a normal little kid. Something about that makes him nod his head tightly, satisfied with his work and this outcome.

But he's not completely finished yet.

"Okay, Luna. Here's the deal. Your hair is all tangled up, see?"

He holds portions of it up so that she can see how when he tries to put his fingers through it, they won't go.

"I'm going to try to brush some of the knots out the best I can and I'm going to try to be gentle, but some of it might pull your hair. You gotta tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay? We might have to give you a little trim."

The instant he brings up that it may hurt, she has some hesitation with this plan of his. Just like when he mentioned putting ice on the back of her head after she fell.

With all the wariness she can possible muster in her tiny body, she eyes him a bit, shifting uncomfortably at the thought. Luna has no idea what type of pain he's talking about nor even how much. All she knows is the prospect of pain isn't exactly making her jump up and down for joy.

But. She's used to pain and she trusts Dolan, so she finally nods, giving up on fighting him about this. If he's helping her with something, it can't be that bad, can it?

"Okay... Just- I wanna see what you're doing first."

It's probably the most mature she's sounded since meeting him. As composed as she can be, she walks back over to the bed and climbs herself back onto it, sitting with her legs crossed. As she waits for him to... Do whatever it is he needs to do, she pulls some of her hair around in front of her, playing with the large knots, pulling at them with a frown as she remembers him showing how his hand couldn't pass through them.

"Mister Dolan, is hair not supposed to look like this?"

She holds up several of her dreadlocks for him as an example, confused as to what brushing is and why he feels like it needs to be done to her hair.

"I thought mine was supposed to do this?"