Andie slowly pried herself awake, then rolled out of her bed. Her left arm was numb, tingly, and sluggish. It seemed determined to stay that way, too, and refused to return to normal no matter how much she stretched or massaged it. This was probably a side effect of her dreamwalker form losing its left arm while she fought her shadow.
“GRANDPA!” Chloe and Connor’s voices excitedly rang out from downstairs. “GRANDPA’S HERE!”
Andie hurried to get dressed, then walk-ran down the stairs, trying not to look like she was rushing. She wasn’t usually the type to care about how “childish” she appeared to others, but there was naught a teen in the world willing to be seen frantically dashing down the stairs like a five-year-old on Christmas day, just to see a grandparent.
“…and this one’s name is Ginger, she likes to bake.” Grandpa Finn was crouched down in front of Chloe, who was holding a doll in her hands, completely enthralled by it. Just as usual, he carried a gentle aura, as if time stood still around him. There was just something about his silver hair and the slight upwards curl that rested at the edge of his lips, something that gave off a relentless cheerfulness. He reminded Andie a little of the other Finnegan, the dreamwalker - and not just because of his name. Then again, lots of people reminded Andie of other people. She wasn’t good with faces, and mostly used thought doodles to identify people. “Oh! Hey, Sprout!” Finn glanced toward Andie, and slowly stood up with a strained grunt. “Good to see you again. I brought you a few old comics I found at a yard sale. They’re nothing special, and you’ve probably already read a few of them, but they were a buck a piece, so…”
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“Sweet.” Andie dodged past her brother - who was sprinting proudly across the room, a brand new chef’s hat on his head - and peered into one of the bags Finn had brought with him. “Wait, is this a silver age Batman comic? There’s even an old Spider-man…”
“Calm down there, Little Cook…” Finnegan gestured for Connor to slow down, then turned his attention back to Andie. “Why do you ask? Are they valuable?”
“Well, given their issue numbers, they’re nothing crazy rare…” For a moment, Andie was silent, her eyes, heart, and mind captured by the stories of old she held in her hands. “…and it isn’t like they’re autographed, but they’re definitely worth more than the buck-a-piece you paid for them.”