Origins, pt 2 Title: Origins Rating: FRM Characters: Solo, Duo Warnings: references to child prostitution (only references), pedophilia within a church (sorry, it had to be done, but it's only implied), some minor swearing. Time: ??
Origins 2: Naming The Baby
Solo wanted nothing more than to be back in a warm home with his mother, but being that his mother was dead, and he couldn't really remember where his home had been, it was the baby he sought comfort in. Sometimes, he was sure the little creature really had fallen out of the sky. The baby just wasn't... normal.
In two weeks, the baby that had somehow fallen into his care had already learned an array of basic words, such as "Solo," "want," "yes," "no," "love," "food," "eat," and "dirty." Solo wasn't sure what the normal progression rate for babies was, but he was absolutely sure that wherever the baby came from, he wasn't, well, normal. For one thing, the baby barely appeared to be a year old, and he was already speaking fairly coherently—didn't that wait until you were like two or something? In any case, the baby also seemed painfully aware of his surroundings in a very adult, conscious way that he'd simply never seen a baby do before. For example, Solo would be on the run from some random Alliance scum, and the baby would point to a bolt hole that Solo hadn't even realized was there, and would save both their asses. And of course, when Solo asked the baby how he knew about it, the baby would give him this adorable little shrug and scratch his head in baby-like confusion. He had a feeling that the baby would have "dunno," and "you're an idiot, Solo," added to his vocabulary fairly soon.
Still, despite the fact that they'd managed not to get caught in two weeks time (and had somehow also managed not to starve to death), Solo was getting a bit desperate and he knew that sooner or later, he was going to have to think of a real way out of this. After all, if he was going to survive on the streets, he needed a way to make money—but who was going to give a four year old money for eating? And a baby, for that matter? They were a right pair, they were.
And there was, of course, the squatters, who would gladly take them in, baby included, if Solo somehow earned his keep. Solo had seen the boys lined up on Jericho like some meat market, sucking cock for a few bucks in the pot. But even if the idea of doing something like that didn't disturb him on a very great level (hey, he was only four and a half), the youngest boy he'd ever seen doing it had been eight, and Solo was still, however jaded, much too young. And there had to be something better for the baby—he wasn't going to let the baby grow up in some prostitution gang to die some horrible death by, like, AIDS or something. Solo knew what AIDS was, and where it came from, because he'd approached the gang without the baby in an inquiring sort of way, and they'd given him the runner-up on all sorts of disturbing stuff. Solo had been wide-eyed and gawky at the end of it, but now, several days later, he was only disgusted. Now that he knew what sex was, he just couldn't see what anyone ever got out of it.
So Solo had taken the baby (of whom he still hadn't named), to a church on the edge of the market square that he'd heard had some sort of mission for helping children. He wasn't a particularly god-fearing kid, but he was desperate. The baby curled up in his arms, half-asleep, Solo knocked on the huge door with a small fist, and stared upward when the great arching wood creaked inwards, and a man with a funny collar stepped through, smiling down at him in the weirdest way.
"Yes? How may I help you?"
"Uh, my name's, uh, Solo. And this... this is a baby. I was... I was gonna ask..."
"You would like to seek solace?"
"What's solace?"
"A peaceful place to rest your weary bones," the funny man intoned.
Solo tilted his head, brow raised in scrutiny. "This peaceful place got food?"
"All the best," the man said with a smile just a little too wide, and motioned for the boy to enter. Solo did so warily. as if knowingly stepping into a bear trap. The man just kept right on smiling. "My name is Father Harrington, and this is the Harrington Church. Don't worry, you don't have to be a Christian to eat here, at least not yet." Solo didn't like the sound of that, but the man laughed at his own joke very loudly. "Come, you'll have to meet Sister Helen, she's in charge of the nursery here."
Solo didn't like this Harrington fellow, he was altogether too creepy. Still, food was food and it wasn't like he couldn't take he and the baby out into the streets again if things went down the crapper. At that thought, the baby squirmed in his arms and hummed softly in his sleep, before relaxing again. Solo gazed down at him with the deepest affections. Whatever happened, the baby was his first priority.
The man led him into a hall which was painted with blues and yellows and whites, and there was a bright yellow sun and funny alien beams peeking through the puffy clouds (Solo had never seen clouds before, so this stunned him in a particularly dazing fashion), with funny looking bird-people gliding down from the sky who all had happy smiling faces and long flowing dresses. There were a bunch of T's drawn all around, that for the life of him, Solo couldn't figure out what they stood for. But he didn't know how to read, and he barely knew his letters, so that was probably just as well, when he thought about it.
Father Harrington led him all the way down the colorful hall to an office with a beautiful woman behind a desk, scribbling notes onto a pad. The only thing Solo could think to describe her was, "mother." He missed his own mother very badly and he wished that if he could replace his mother like one could replace an article of clothing, he would gladly wear Sister Helen around his shoulders. She was so warm and gentle, you know? The way a mother should be.
The woman looked up and smiled at him, and it was like getting a blast of sunshine in the eyes. For Solo, it was a bit like love at first sight. He hadn't realized how badly he ached for the gentleness of a motherly figure until now.
"Hello there. I'm Sister Helen. Who do you have there?" She nodded toward the baby and Solo squirmed uncomfortably. He hadn't thought about explaining it—what if she took him back to the bad place? She seemed nice enough, so she probably wouldn't, but you had to be very careful these days...
"Helen, this is Solo and his charge. I'm taking them under the care of the orphanage. You'll explain, won't you?"
"Of course, Father."
"Thank you."
As he turned to leave, Solo noticed an odd sort of disgust aimed at the man's back. Though Father Harrington seemed oblivious, it was obvious that Helen did not like the man one bit. Strangely, it made Solo like her even more—the Father was creepy. He didn't like him much, either.
"Sister Helen?"
As she turned back to him, the disgust melted into a soft, genuine smile. "Yes, dear?"
"Why's he a father and you a sister? Aren't you supposed to be a mother?"
She laughed, but it wasn't a mocking laughter and he found himself relaxing a bit. Solo carried the baby to the small chair before her desk and plopped down with a sigh of relief. The baby wasn't getting any lighter—he hoped the kid would learn to walk soon.
"My dear, it doesn't work like that."
"Why not?" She didn't seem put off by any of his questions, so he tilted his head in confusion and inquired further. "You look like a mommy."
"I'll take that as a compliment, then, but if you must know, I'm a little young for motherhood. I'm only seventeen."
"But that's old!"
She rolled her eyes endearingly. "So your name is Solo, sweetie?"
He blushed at the pet name. "Yes," he muttered, hiding his face in the baby's soft, growing hair.
She leaned over the desk and knelt down at Solo's level, cooing in a girlish sort of way at the baby in his lap. Solo only realized belatedly that the baby was wide awake and staring at the sister with wonder. Helen rubbed his chin. "And who are you, munchkin?"
The baby giggled loudly and grabbed at her finger with a tiny fist. He said, "Hell!"
Solo choked. "Err, that is, he means—"
But Helen just giggled right back. She rubbed her thumb along the baby's cheek and sighed softly. "What's his name?"
"He doesn't have one," Solo said without thinking. When Helen gave him a look, he added, "My—no, o-our mother, she, she died, and—he's my brother," and he was, sort of, wasn't he? "H-He was never... never named."
Helen seemed to think this was very sad, because she gave him a watery look and sighed. "My poor children," she said. "He must be named. Have you thought of anything?"
Solo almost told her that he had been named Oh Two, but that just seemed wrong, somehow. "No... nothin' really fits him. Still thinkin'."
"Well, I can help, if you let me? We have dictionaries and baby names books..." At his blank look, she laughed, and said, "Okay, first I'll teach you how to read, and then we'll look into it. Sound fair?"
He nodded.
"Alright, then," she said, clapping her hands. "Let's go meet the other children."
**
Three months later, Solo was browsing through books with the still-unnamed baby. Helen kept saying that the baby couldn't be called The Baby, Kid, and Buddy forever, and Solo really had to start thinking about names. So she'd given him a book and a dictionary, and slowly helped him pronounce each word, and define it. The naming book had been long since abandoned for the dictionary, because Solo didn't really know what the names meant, and the dictionary was more fun anyway—he found that, once he allowed himself to learn, he soaked up information like a sponge.
So one quiet night when most of the other children had already settled into bed, Solo, Helen and the baby were huddled around the dictionary in front of a heater, browsing through the D's. When they approached duo, as they naturally would've done, Helen helped him read the definition.
"A duet, especially two performers singing or playing together."
"What's a duet?"
"It's when two people sing together."
"Oh."
"Okay, the second definition: 'Two people or two things in close association: a duo of negotiators.'"
"Huh?"
"Two things that are a pair. Or, like, two best friends. Like you and the baby."
"So me and the baby are a duo?"
"Yes... it's the opposite of solo," Helen said with a little nod toward him. "Here, let me show you." And she skimmed ahead to the S's and searched for the word that was his name. "Ah, look, here." And Solo saw that his name was, indeed, in the dictionary. Which was just odd, really, and so he demanded to know what it meant. Helen said, "Solo: no, here, let me skip to this one, it's the opposite definition of duo. It says, 'Made or done by a single individual.' As an adjective, 'Unaccompanied; alone.'"
This distressed Solo greatly. "So you mean, like, I'm alone? That's what I mean? That's not good!"
"No, dear, it's only a definition. You define Solo yourself."
"Huh? No, it means I'm alone, so I must be alone, and I really don't like being alone..."
Seeing Solo's distress, Helen went back to the definition of duo. "But you aren't alone," she said, pointing at the word. Solo hugged the baby to him and stared at her finger. "See? You and the baby, you're together. That means you're a duo, not a solo."
"We're a duo, then?"
"Yes." She smiled at him with that blinding sunshine expression, and he blinked.
The baby giggled at her expression, and tried to say the name. "Du! Du!"
"No, buddy, it's duo. Can you say that? Duo?"
"Du-oh..." There was a little frown in his brow, and the baby balled his tiny fists, determined. "Duoh! Duo? Duo, duo, duo!"
As the baby went on and on with the name, saying it over and over again, Solo sighed with an affectionate sort of annoyance. "Great, now I'm going to hear that all night."
"He seems to like the word an awful lot," Helen said. She patted the baby on the head and he giggled at her with another 'Duo!'
A light-bulb suddenly hit him. "Duo's, like, two, right? I mean, him and me, we're a pair, and that's two..."
"Yes, of course."
"Well, then..." He took a great, big, nervous breath. "His name's gonna be Duo! Then I'll never be alone!"
Helen's face light up and he was blinded again. "That's genius!" She kissed Solo on the forehead and then looked very seriously at the baby. "Okay. What about you? You like that name?"
Of course, the baby just pointed at her and said, "Duo!" without a care in the world.
She grinned. "That settles it, then. Solo and Duo. A match made in heaven, isn't it?" And she did a little cross, and laughed.
Solo tried it out, first. "Okay, then... Duo. You like?"
The baby pointed at him, and said the same thing. "Duo! Duo, Duo, Duo!" Flapping his tiny arms, the baby Duo bounced on his bum, as if trying to fly away. "Duo!"
Solo made shushing noises. "Shhh! S'late, yanno, people are tryin' ta sleep!"
"Duo! Solo love! Duo love Solo!"
Well, as Helen said, that certainly settled it. Couldn't say the kid didn't like his name.
**
Solo stayed in Helen's care for nearly two years, and he soaked up every last ounce of information she gleaned on him. Solo could now read fairly well for a six year old, and he was getting better at writing; and he was only just turned six. Duo was going to turn three in a month or so (they'd labeled his birthday the day his mother died), and he was already speaking full sentences now. In fact, he'd even started reading without Helen's assistance, and Solo often found himself trying to keep up with the kid. Again, he'd also found himself wondering that Duo wasn't particularly normal, and wherever he'd come from, it had to be a very special place. Helen said that Duo was a "prodigy," whatever that meant. Solo just knew the kid was entirely too smart for his age, and learning was almost too easy for him. It sort of made Solo jealous, but Helen said that Solo was very smart too, so he gradually felt better. It hard to stay bitter with Helen around anyway.
Then one night when everyone else had gone to bed, Solo's life (and Duo's) had been irrecoverably changed forever. Father Harrington had taken come to him in the middle of the night, and had waken him from a sound slumber. "Son," he said. "I have something I must show you. Will you help me?"
Solo did not like Father Harrington. He asked once why Helen didn't like him, but she only said something about "abuse," and that "once she collected all her evidence, he wouldn't be a member of the Holy Church anymore." Helen often told him to keep far away from Father Harrington no matter what he said; she said he was a very bad man, and he was a disgrace to God. The words, from Helen, had shocked him, but he'd taken it to heart. When the man had come for him, Solo firmly shook his head.
"No," he said, "I dun care what ya show me, I ain't goin' no where!"
"Nonsense, child, don't be stubborn." Despite the anger Solo was expecting, the Father gave him that creepy, too-wide smile, and touched his arm. "Come. I won't hurt you, but I must show you something this instant. It's very grand."
Solo's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"
"I can't tell you, son, I must show you. It's too beautiful for words."
"Why me?"
"Because I believe you're the only one who would appreciate this beauty. Come, son, I beg of you, or we'll both miss it."
He knew he really shouldn't go. He wasn't stupid, far from it. But Solo looked at Duo in the next bed, huddled in the covers, and he sighed. "Okay then. But no funny business."
"At this time of night? Wouldn't dream of it..."
**
Funny business turned out to be not so funny. Solo had returned to Duo sobbing and distraught, and he dragged Duo out of bed despite the kid's protests.
"Solo? S'wrong? What happened?"
"Can't talk now, gotta go. C'mon, pack your things, we're gettin' the fuck outta here."
"Solo—"
"I said pack. Now, Duo."
"But—"
When Solo turned to Duo, Duo was too young to realize what, exactly, had happened. But the agony on his face was far too great to refuse.
"Please. I'm goin' and I ain't gonna leave without you."
Thus, Duo packed, and willingly let Solo take him away from the only home he'd ever known. The escape was frantic and cold, and they'd run for a very long time before Solo finally settled them in an anonymous alley, and curled himself into a corner. Duo tried to ask him what had happened. There was never an answer, even years later. Solo died having never spoken of it.
It wasn't long after they'd run away that Harrington was arrested, and Maxwell took his place. But Solo still hadn't gone back. He never trusted the churches after that, so they stole what they ate, and found other ways to survive. Over time, Duo forgot about Helen and the church completely.