19 | see how the mother half lives

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"Sorry, it took her a while to go to sleep," Miles said, rushing into the room.

            Jensen looked up from rocking Beckett in her arms. He'd started crying the moment Jensen and Miles were going to go through her lines for her Diana Thomas audition. Rocky in one arm, snoring away on his shoulder, and his other hand holding various pages of script Jensen had printed off a couple days before and never touched, Miles had too much and Jensen felt bad for asking him to run lines with her. She wasn't sure she even wanted to audition. Three months away from home didn't sound like something she'd enjoy. Staying home didn't sound like it either. She'd spent two months with Beckett and leaving him sounded terrifying, even when she felt like he deserved better.

            Jensen was tired of having her brain feed her paradoxes she couldn't hope to unravel.

            "It's fine," Jensen said. She sat down in the rocking chair they had in the corner of Beckett's room, adjusting how she was holding him as she unbuttoned her shirt with one hand. "He's still fussing anyway."

            "Do you want me to go grab something from the freezer so you can focus on your lines?"

            Jensen shook her head. "I'll never practice these if we wait for perfect conditions."

            "Are you looking forward to the audition?" Miles asked, pulling up a tiny chair to sit near her.

            "Honestly," Jensen said, desperately trying to get Beckett to latch so she could feed him. She pushed hair out of her face. "I don't even care."

            Jensen let out a small breath as Beckett latched onto her, both of relief and at the soreness. She looked back up at Miles, who's eyebrows knit together.

            "I thought you were excited about this," Miles said. "Diana Thomas... and all."

            Jensen gave a small shrug. "It's... it's whatever. I don't care."

            "Rhodes—"

            "Are you starting or am I starting?"

            "Um." Miles sighed softly and read over the side quickly. "Me."

            "Go ahead."

            "Are you sure?"

            Jensen nodded and closed her eyes, attempting to picture her lines in her head. They had to be somewhere between all the baby books and Quentin Tarantino monologues, right? Jensen would even take half-remembered lines over not-at-all-remembered lines.

            "Stop me anytime—"

            "Please read the lines."

            Miles sighed. Jensen wasn't sure she was meant to hear it. "Kansas? Of all places?"

            "I want to live," Jensen said, "See the world."

            "Diagnosed with stage four and Kansas is where you want to go? Wait—" Miles said, "You'd have cancer in this?"

            "Yeah."

            "If I have to see you die, I'm going to bawl my eyes out, Rhodes."

            "I've seen Daydream Believer," Jensen said. "Keep reading."

            "Diagnosed with stage four and you want to run away to Kansas?"

            Jensen found it charming how Miles read his lines. It wasn't like a casting reader, usually monotone and lifeless. Miles read them to her like he was auditioning for the role himself. Jensen played easily off his emotions and the dialogue flowed like it would in front of a camera. He made it simple to bounce off of.

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