[DARROW] June 24th

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[DARROW] June 24th

I worried a lot about Marius after that day, with the arrival of the chair and all of the memories it carried with it. I know it wasn't my burden to bear, but seeing the pain that he felt, the past that he had arrived from, made me care for him all the more. If I were more honest with myself at the time, I might have realised that so much of it reminded me of Tommy. Of caring for Tommy, and the unspeakable ache he carried around inside of himself.

I'd found out we lived close to one another when I'd helped him maneuver the chair up to his apartment. The closeness comforted me, as if one way or another I could be sure of him, secure in the knowledge he was close, but without intruding on his space. We didn't know each other all that well, anyway. But I knew him well enough to know that I liked him, and that's why I found myself at his apartment that day, fist raised to knock on his door. "Marius?" I called as I knocked, thermos in my free hand. "I've made tea, would you care for some?"

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Marius hasn't seen Kathy since the dreadful day in which he came upon the chair in the park and she helped to settle it in his apartment. Currently, it remains locked away in one of the closets, and Marius tries not to dwell on it overly much. He's a bit more tired recently, oddly since the circus arrived in Darrow. He keeps having nagging thoughts about the barricades, which is making it rather difficult for him to sleep. So he finds himself now contemplating that chair in the closet, and wondering what it, along with his recent dreams, mean for him when he hears a knock and Kathy's voice calling out to him with the offer of tea. He brightens instantly as he makes his way to the front door, pulling it open with a small smile.

"Hello," he says, glad to see her again. He is always glad to see her, he realizes. She has a brightness like Cosette with the way she seems to nurture everyone around her. The thought of tea with her pleases him immensely. "Tea would be lovely, won't you come in?" He moves aside to let her into his apartment.

I didn't want it to be too apparent that I'd come to check in on Marius, but I still felt relief when I saw him, smiling and seeming fine. Fine, of course, was relative, especially given the tragedy of what he'd experienced. What we both had. Stepping inside, I reached to hug him briefly before nodding over to his kitchen, identical to my own. "Cups?"

Marius finds himself especially happy to see Kathy today as he hugs her; perhaps this is why he lingers in their hug, a bit. Perhaps it is just his exhaustion, but her presence helps lift some of his tiredness, makes him feel almost his normal self again. Though they haven't known each other long, she understands more about Marius and what he's been through better than most people. He finds himself more contented, when she's around, a soothing reminder of all the hope in his life.

"Oh, yes, I'll fetch some," he nods, turning and reaching in one of his cabinets to pull down one of his few splurges in Darrow so far, two porcelain cups from a tea set decorated with lavender embellishments on the side. They remind him of what few memories he retains of his mother, and sharing tea with Kathy calls for such special cups. He brings them over and sets them on the small table, careful not to knock them over. "I have some cookies, if you would like any?"

"Absolutely," I said, pouring the freshly brewed tea. I could have easily left it at that, left it as tea and biscuits between friends, but whenever I looked at him I couldn't help but remember what he'd been like not much more than a month prior. The tears that the sight of a simple chair had brought to his eyes. "So how have you been?" I asked after a moment, stirring milk into my own cup. "I was very rattled when my own reminder of home turned up, for a while."

"Good," he says with a grin, moving to pull down a box of still fresh chocolate chip cookies he purchased from the local bakery in his neighborhood and set them on the table next to the cups. He watches Kathy pour the tea, the warm scent of it relaxing him further.

"I've been as well as I can expect," he says, trying to think of what else they might need for tea and biscuits. "A few...bad dreams since finding the chair, but nothing as bad as finding the chair itself." Confiding in Kathy just comes naturally to Marius; her sturdy presence and calming demeanor always inspires him to be more open with himself.

"You've had your own reminder of home too?" He asks, concerned by what that might possibly be. The way she admits to being rattled by it assures Marius that said object is similar to his chair.

"A while ago," I said, breaking apart one of the biscuits and soaking it in my tea. It was the kind of thing that might have been frowned upon at Hailsham, the kind of gesture that was only observed when sharing tea with friends. Marius was my friend, undoubtedly, and though I never volunteered that sort of information, I saw no need to lie to him about the forms. "Some paperwork. Before I arrived, I'd... come very close to an operation," I explained. "These would have confirmed that. They were a bit silly, though. They didn't really mean anything." Our fates were set at birth.

He watches, fascinated, as she dips her biscuit in her tea. He's never seen anyone eat cookies like that; he winds up following Kathy's lead and dunking his own biscuit into the tea, biting into it and delighting in how wonderful it tastes. He thinks he will always eat his biscuits like this from now on.

"Like a medical procedure?" He asks, sipping from his tea and keeping his gaze focused on Kathy. "Was it a significant operation?" She says that the forms don't mean anything, but Marius suspects the opposite, after she told him about being rattled by them. He finds his hand reaching out and covering hers in support, as if by instinct.

"You could say that," I said with a nod, looking down at my tea for a moment before back at him. It felt wrong to lie by omission when he'd told me so much of his own past. Of that chair. I still always felt the nag of judgement when somebody learned what I was. A clone. Destined to be a wreckage: robbed of all useful bits and left to rot. "It would have granted them permission to take my organs. All of them. But, as I said, it was mostly meaningless," I thought of deferrals. What a laugh. "They had permission before we were born. I was born a clone."

Marius feels something inside of him clench when she admits that someone had permission to...harvest her organs, as though her own life and well-being weren't significant. He finds himself horrified that anyone could think so little about a fellow human being, especially someone as wonderful as Kathy. He squeezes her hand, wanting to let her know she has his support and gratitude in confiding in him.

"So," he begins, "clones are people used for their body parts?" It's a terrible notion, one that shows Marius the awful nature of science. "Pardon, but that isn't right, to think so little of human life. Not at all."

"For our organs," I said, nodding. A while before that, even a few months prior, I might have rattled off details about how we'd single-handedly extended the human lifespan to over one hundred years. How we'd cured cancer, motor-neurone disease. But seeing Peter, so much a reminder of Tommy, and all of the people I'd told — Faye, Eleanor, Luke — had hardened me in a strange way. Though I still struggled with it, sometimes, I finally knew the injustice Tommy had raged against. "And they told themselves we weren't human, anyway. So it didn't matter, ending our lives like that."

"How could they do such things to fellow human beings and live with themselves?" Marius surprises himself with how utterly outraged he feels, hearing Kathy having to endure such circumstances because someone decided she was only useful as a living medical instrument, until all her parts were used up. "I am so sorry, Kathy, that you had to go through that." He squeezes her hand again, to reassure her.

"It was another world," I said, squeezing his hand right back. Much as it hadn't been my intention, I was thankful the fact we'd both shared our vulnerabilities, then. Pains of the past that were so different, but ached all the same as one.

I was one of the lucky ones, though. I might have lost more than I thought I could bear (another thing I'd learned — you could bear more than you'd ever imagined without breaking) at times, I'd lived. I hadn't even suffered one donation before I turned up in Darrow. "And you'd be surprised what people can live with. The end justifies the means, and all of that." I thought of our meeting with Miss Emily and Madame, and my throat grew tight.

Edited 2014-06-29 12:10 (UTC)

"Still," he murmurs, glancing over at her with worry. "It doesn't make it right." He finds himself grateful for the way she shares the pain of her past with him; as much as it makes his heart ache for her, Marius finds that he feels less vulnerable, less the only one in pain, from all his experiences. He finds himself more in awe of Kathy and her quiet strength.

"I suppose so," he says, thinking of the Thenardiers, and how easily they appeared to live after the death of their children. Yet, in spite of all the horrible truths to human nature, Marius finds it's the goodness in people that makes life worth fighting for, a goodness he sees so clearly in Kathy. "I'm glad you're here, Kathy."

"I'm glad I'm here, too," I told him, and that alone was progress. For a long time, I'd been certain my life would end not all that long after I lost the people I loved most in the world, and I had come to accept that. Maybe it wasn't even any sort of revelation. Maybe it was something, deep down, that I'd always known. That's how it was for Tommy, after all. I'd realised a while ago that was why he was always so angry.

But now, now I was living in a city that didn't put an expiry date on my existence. I had friends who were worldly, who had been places I'd never even allowed myself to dream of. For the first time, I had a future. For the first time, I dared to dream beyond thirty. I sipped my tea again, feeling a little guilty. "I'm sorry," I told him. "I didn't come here to talk about myself. I just wanted to see how you were doing. And let you know you aren't alone."

He smiles when she says that, heart lightened by her admitting to her gladness for dwelling in the city, especially in the wake of what she recently revealed to him about her life prior to Darrow. Marius finds himself comforted by the fact of Kathy's settling into the city; he finds himself inspired to a quiet strength, to be able to continue on with his own life after his time in Paris and all which he lost there. He drinks his tea, occasionally nibbles on one of the cookies, and stares at her in something akin to wonder.

"You don't have to apologize," he tells her. "I am glad to learn more about you, Kathy. Though it is dreadful what you have been through, it is so nice to know that I'm not alone."

"You're never alone," I assured him, and I meant it. Again I didn't want to lump him in with the loved ones I'd lost, or the donors I'd spent final days with, but I knew what it was to observe loneliness, to feel helpless about how to quell it. I'd learned just being there was key. And that's what scared me most about my own completion, ready as I might have thought I was. Who did I have?

Here, in Darrow, I had many. "I'm very glad I met you, Marius," I told him, squeezing his hand again.

"Neither are you," he promises her, wanting her to know that as well. Kathy, it seems to him, has spent her life caring so deeply for other people. Something in Marius, some familiar stirring within his heart, wants to assure Kathy that she, too, is cared for, that she doesn't have to bear her burdens alone. As long as they were both in Darrow, Marius wants to be there for her, in any way that he can be.

"And I am glad to have met you too, Kathy," he replies, smiling as he squeezes her hand back.

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[DARROW] June 24th

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