Who: Claire Bennet (
autophoenix) and Clark Kent (
clarklike)
What: Breaking more bad news about Paradisa and losses.
When: Late morning on Friday, October 8, 2010
Where: Kitchen, First Floor, The Castle
Rating: PG
(
I can't imagine all the people that you know and the places that you go )
"Clark, right?" Her tone was apprehensive -- at this point, she wouldn't be surprised if she just had the bad luck of running into some random person who happened to know her in the kitchen while she was waiting for him, but she was hopeful enough to think she was right. "I'm … fine, I guess. I mean, as fine as can be expected." Which wasn't fine at all, really.
Guilt had been biting at her all morning -- she couldn't stop apologizing for things that weren't her fault. For not being able to remember. On top of that, she got to just suffer in silence while she worked on accepting the fact that she was never going to see her family again. It wasn't exactly going high in her 'best of …' list of mornings. And, well, as much as she'd like to be totally forthcoming, she wasn't sure she had it in her to say all that, let alone throw it at some random stranger.
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He approached, though he kept a friendly distance. Clark knew first-hand what it was like to have people know him from times he had no memory off, and that wasn't because he'd been in Paradisa before.
"You're doing better than a lot of people would, especially with all the people you don't remember."
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"I mean, for all the people who I've forgotten, I've got people trying to help me get comfortable." She chuckled. "Guess I've got the easy end of the bargain, really. I'm not the one being forgotten." It was easier when she forced herself to think of it that way, even if there was still the latent guilt chewing at her.
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He leaned against the counter, hands in his pockets. Clark figured she wasn't terribly happy with this arrangement, but that stood to reason.
"But if you want to know anyone again, the door's open. Whatever pace you're comfortable with. First priority is you, not us."
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Her expression softened and she just nodded some, biting her lip.
"I want to try. I mean, if you were important to me before, then I think it only makes sense for me to try again." But, that meant trying for herself, not reading back to see how she was supposed to act to seem normal. It would drive her out of her head. "So, let's just get the bad news out of the way, okay? And then you can tell me how I'm supposed to know you."
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"Mm. Has anyone mentioned losses to you, yet?"
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"Yeah, I got the basic run down. Something important to us -- not necessarily an object, a memory maybe. Gone. Payment for the castle's ferryman or something, I'm guessing?"
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Clark paused, watching her for a second.
"You've lost a memory of a person. Memories are probably the most painless losses, because you can't really miss something you don't remember having. Not that it makes them any easier to handle."
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"How do you know what I've lost? I thought it could take months to figure out something like that." Though, really the burning question was where do you get off thinking you know me well enough to decide what I lost, but she was keeping that one to herself, so instead she just fixed him with an expectant look and raised her eyebrows.
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The look on her face hurt, but he reminded himself to not take it personally. Tried to, anyhow.
"I don't know Peter too well, but I know you did."
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It was hard to see past her own blinders to realize he was hinting that it might have been something she'd lost when she was dealing with apparent memory loss on a major scale all day. It was hard to separate them.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what he told you, but I really don't know him, and I don't know why he'd say I did."
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But, the more she thought about it, the more she compared the situation to dealing with Zach and Sandra when they'd been haitian'd and the quicker she began to realize that she wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary until attention was drawn to that memory and really hammered in.
She spent a long moment at a loss for words.
"But -- That's …" She shuts her eyes, brow wrinkling with confusion as she shook her head quickly. "I'd know, wouldn't I? I mean, I can't -- I don't even remember ever meeting someone named Peter besides … some annoying kid in the third grade. How can it just … be gone?" Her heart twisted in her chest. Something with that kind of power was scary -- not only that, though. The scariest part was not knowing parts of her own life and knowing she'd never be able to get it back.
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"I had no idea I ever had an adoptive father until it was explained to me," Clark offered. "There was nothing. Not until I went over my entire life and looked for the events that seemed like they were missing something, where the events make no sense without that person there."
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She'd done a lot of work to build up those walls, telling herself that no one was like her and no one was going to be in her place or understand the things she'd been through. So, instead of breaking down and letting herself show how upset the thought really made her, how unfair it was that she'd lost her family and was never going to see them again and now she couldn't even remember one of her loved ones, she just forced it down and swallowed the sadness, putting on a brave face.
"I guess knowing's better than not knowing, right?" She gave a hollow chuckle. "I guess … I should say thanks. For letting me know." The questions burned the ask what he knew about Peter, what he was to her, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that if she did, she'd start crying, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Her facade of a weak, thin smile that didn't reach her eyes was crappy enough already.
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All those things had been instrumental to him, growing up, and he knew those things weren't his qualities alone. Lots of people in Paradisa had them, if not most.
"Better to get it over with, I think. I know people who haven't figured out their losses after months, and just just eats at them."
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