"Oh sweetheart-" Grace has to move- hand still caught comfortably in Vanya's death grip (she was built to withstand Vanya at her worst, designed to be durable, meant to intimidate) as she comes around to pull Vanya into a gentle embrace. There had been so much she'd meant to say, so much she'd wanted to do, to offer- and so much of it was impossible as long as Reginald determined it dangerous. For Vanya to feel, for Vanya to be aware of her powers, the world around her. For Grace to treat her any different than the other children despite her needing, desperately, more attention, more care. "It's alright."
To feel, to cry. Grace never could describe how unsettling it'd been to see someone that wanted so badly and tried so hard to come up against a mental and emotional block not entirely unlike her own. She was built and coded and designed- actual people, actual children? Shouldn't live that way. "You are wonderful and you are special- and you're somewhere safe."
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To feel, to cry. Grace never could describe how unsettling it'd been to see someone that wanted so badly and tried so hard to come up against a mental and emotional block not entirely unlike her own. She was built and coded and designed- actual people, actual children? Shouldn't live that way. "You are wonderful and you are special- and you're somewhere safe."