Wait For Me

Chapter 2- Rat Man

TW: brief scene of graphic violence, injury, and child abuse!

  It was truly no surprise that Molly caught a cold rather quickly. Walking home in subzero temperatures in a dress was not ideal, regardless of how many other layers she had on. Tack on the rather unfortunate snow dump, and it was a recipe for getting ill.

A week later, and she was still in bed, sicker than a dog.

Of course, their father was suspicious of why she was even sick in the first place, when as far as he knew, she never left the house, and neither Anthony nor Bruno caught anything themselves.

Given their penchant for always being together as twins, of course it was Anthony that received the brunt of the questioning. Somehow, within an inch of his life, he had managed to convince his father it had to have been some sort of fluke. Luckily, the subject was dropped altogether once a doctor had been called to the home and confirmed that it was merely a head cold. He told them so long as Molly stayed inside on bed rest where it was warm, she would get better soon.

That still didn't quite make Anthony feel any less guilty though. Why he felt guilty, he wasn't sure. Maybe because his sister was having a wonderful time until the evening drew to a close, and he felt bad about it? Either way, every time he heard a loud, rattling cough, or a sneeze, a twinge of guilt panged in his heart. He wanted to make it up to his sister somehow.

He carried the steaming bowl in one hand and knocked on the door with the other. After hearing the 'come in,' he cracked open the door and poked his head in. "How're ya feelin' Miss Molly Dolly?" he asked, quietly, in case she was trying to rest.

Molly in fact was not resting when her brother knocked at her door. She was instead writing away in her journal. She looked up when her door opened, a smile working its way onto her face. "Heya Tony! I'm actually feelin' a lot better today. Still got the sniffles, but my throat feels much better, and I'm not coughin' as much anymore."

Anthony nodded. Already she looked a lot better. Her face had a more natural color to it, her eyes looked livelier, and her voice no longer sounded all raspy. He stepped into the room, bowl in hand. "Well, I know it's not much, but I also know it's ya favorite, and well, what's a better way to get over a cold than some Italian Wedding Soup aye?"

Molly's face lit up, her smile growing larger. "Oh Tony! Thank ya kindly! How thoughtful!"

He returned her smile, visibly relieved that she was getting better. "Yeah well, s'kinda all I know how ta make, and it's yer favorite so..." he trailed off with a shrug.

Molly nodded and dug in. They were all taught how to make this particular soup, the men included, even if they typically didn't do the cooking in the household. It was a tradition that each person needed to learn. But somehow, Anthony's soups were always better than everyone else's. And that wasn't just a biased opinion on Molly's part, many others have told her brother that too. "It's delicious Tony, thank you!" she chirped happily, digging in once more.

Anthony beamed. "Of course! I'm glad you like it," he chuckled. "I uh...I wanted to make it up to ya."

Molly raised a brow. "Make what up to me?"

Anthony's smile faltered a little. He walked over and sat at her vanity. "Well, I guess I just felt bad about our...night out." He said the last bit in a whisper only Molly could hear. He didn't think their father would be out of his office, but he didn't want to take any chances of being overheard.

Molly shook her head and set her spoon down for the moment. "Tony, why d'ya feel bad? S'not like ya did anything worthy of feelin' bad about."

Anthony nodded, and then shrugged. "I know. It's just...you were having such a swell time and then that bad stuff happened at the end, and ya didn't deserve it."