ASRFic - Sora Asks For Protection

The question, rolling in Sora's head for weeks, finally found air one morning at breakfast. His mother always made sure they ate a good meal in the morning, so there was plenty of room to talk; today it was sausage and scrambled egg and toast. (She didn't cook the food, of course - they had someone to take care of that for them.)

"Mom," Sora says, eyes searching for somewhere to rest aside from her face, his tone forcing her to lower her utensils and look over at him.

"Yeah?"

"If me and my friends ever got into... you know, trouble, like with the Centrion..." Sora's index finger rubs at his fork, trying to ease his heart beating out of his chest. "... you'd come and save us, right?"

"Christ, of /course/ you'd go antagonise those fuckin'-- hrm," she cuts herself off. Her lips form a thin line, in that way they always do when she feels the urge to snap and she's counting to ten in her head. Sora was used to it by now; he'd weathered her fury more times than he could count, and so he resigned himself to it.

"Drew and I would save you," she said after a long moment, now keeping her voice deliberately even. "And we'd save your sister. But that's the most I can promise, son. You're talkin' about makin' a real big enemy, there. Real fuckin'-- real big. Even I'm not strong enough to just ignore them. No one is, understand? That's an order. Don't make enemies there."

"But," and Sora talks faster, now, desperation latching onto his voice, "what if I had a friend who was an idealist, who -- who might one day say something they really don't like? Mom, I - I really like him, and I've overheard you and Drew about the - you know, the 'politically inconvenient' stuff, and what happens --"

His mother held up a hand, palm showing, to call for silence. Sora fell silent.

"Look, I'll do what I can," she said, the gruffness not quite out of her voice, "but I can't guarantee his safety. You know that. You've gotta take care of your own first, remember?"

"Yeah," Sora says, looking down at his half-finished plate, "I remember." His mother had particular rules about prioritisation, and he definitely didn't trust them.

"Just... don't go proddin' that beehive with a stick, all right? You'll cause us all a world of problems."

"Yeah, sure." Sora frowned at his food. "May I be excused."

"No. Eat your breakfast, kid. Most important meal of the day."

Sora ate, but he didn't provide any more conversation. He was too deep in thought.

If his mother couldn't protect them, after all, he'd have to protect them himself.