"Dream until your dreams come true."
Finney Foster does not dream, at least not the way that other people do. His dreams aren't really his own, it's as if he enters someone else's. They are lucid and restless and mostly from Spider-Man-who he hates...
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SLEEP DOESN'T FEEL LIKE SLEEP TO FINNEY FOSTER. He has heard that you're supposed to feel refreshed, well rested, content. It may be because Finney never dreams... or maybe he just dreams too hard. Every dream is like he's awake. When he wakes up—if you even call it that—his body feels fine, but his brain is slow on the uptake. Sometimes his dreams are quiet. He can find a corner to sit in and just stare into the nothingness. Other times he's Spider-Man for some reason, shooting through the streets of New York.
Finney doesn't even have an opinion on Spider-Man, so he has absolutely no idea why his dreams are constantly infiltrated by him. It is annoying. Those dreams leave him restless, generally with the urge to swing via webs, which is pretty unattainable. So yeah, actually, Finney does have an opinion on Spider-Man: he totally sucks.
Finney's alarm blares two hours before the rest of his family's. He doesn't think they are aware of that fact, though. Flora sleeps until ten on her off days and wakes up at five when she's forced to work. There hasn't been a day when Fawn didn't sleep through her own alarm—but can you really call soothing ocean sounds an alarm? She's setting herself up for failure with that one. Besides, they wouldn't understand why Finney would have to wake up two hours earlier to just make them breakfast. They aren't aware that he is basically feeding a whole extended family.
The Fosters live in a rather sketchy apartment complex in Hell's Kitchen. That means that the people living there usually have rather sketchy lifestyles. That means that almost all of them either cannot or do not feed themselves. That is where Finney's early schedule comes into play. He tries his best to always have something extra in the fridge, always baking something in the oven, always trying to make sure everyone gets a little bit to eat. He only gives the best leftovers to one of his neighbors, though.
Finney puts the food into ziplock bags from the dollar store and leaves them in front of their doors. Well, for most of them. This is where the leftovers come in.
Two floors beneath the Fosters lives a mess of a human being. One that could be called a garbage human being, even. One that lives off of strong alcohol and spite. This person needs a little bit more help than the rest of them. Even when Malcolm was under the control of Killgrave he still accepted the food Finney offered.
Finney has to wait outside her door for at least twenty minutes every time. "Open the damn door, Jessica!" the boy calls out, knocking on the door as aggressively as he could without getting a splinter (he hates that door).
"Fuck off, Foster!"
"I will let you know that you are being very rude!" Finney pauses, before yelling, "we had lasagna last night!"
That catches Jessica's attention and the door opens before he can punch it again. She's wearing the same thing she's been wearing for years now.
"Change your clothes, you smell," Finney says, handing the food to her. She takes it, opening the Tupperware container to sniff it.
"Get your ass back to your apartment before I throw you out a window. It'll be quicker that way," she threatens.
