curiously_cora | (no subject)

Coraline was thirteen years old, she was independent and brave and smart but right now, right now Coraline didn't feel like any of those things. Coraline felt rather small actually, small and weak and hurt and what she really wanted right now was her daddy and her mum. Or rather what she wanted was Adam and Sarah. Everywhere hurt from her head to her toes. Her head hurt the worst thought, it made everything hard to focus and she'd been sick earlier. She didn't like being sick.

And the worst thing was Coraline knew that Adam was going to yell at her. Or worse he was going to be disappointed in her. She hadn't meant to get hurt, she hadn't even seen the monster but it had been there and it had hurt her. It had hurt her friends. And now Adam was going to be cross with her. She wasn't sure what was worse; being hurt, knowing Adam was going to be cross or being unable to help her friends because she was weak. Weak and tired and hurt.

Coraline winced at the bright light in the clinic and slowly lifted a scraped and bruised arm to cover her eyes and protect them from the light. It hurt, everything hurt.

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"I know, sweetheart. I know," she murmurs, "It's all right."

Sitting carefully on the edge of Coraline's bed, Sarah wraps the girl gently in her arms, smoothing a hand over her long blonde hair.

"We're the ones who are supposed to tell you it's going to be okay. Not the other way around, you know."

Adam circles around the bed, sitting down on Coraline's other side and leaning back, slipping his arm around the top of her pillows, his fingertips brushing Sarah's blond hair.

"And what's wrong with trainers?" he asks, bending to drop another kiss into Coraline's hair. From this angle, the two of them could actually be related by more than will.

"I know but sometimes grown ups need telling to." Coraline said, wincing slightly as Sarah gently put her arms around her. Coraline leaned her head against Sarah, feeling very small rather than the size she actually was. Coraline didn't get along with older women as easily as she did men so the fact that she was so comfortable around Sarah spoke volumes. "Nothing at all. Wellies are cooler though. And much more practical. I think I might have thrown up on someone's trainers."

She was a bit fuzzy on the who though.

"They really aren't more practical in all this heat, love," Sarah murmurs with an affectionate smile, tucking hair behind Coraline's ear.

"When Harriet's old enough, I think we ought to let her choose what she likes best. Don't you think?"

"That's the nice thing about trainers, Cora," says Adam, wrapping his arm more firmly around her. "You can always just throw them in the wash. So I'm sure whoever it was will forgive you."