passionbound (![]() ![]() @ 2010-06-28 13:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | fenrir, hel |
Who: Simon (Casper) and Aura (Olivia)
What: The siblings go on an outing for DNA testing. Fun Times!
Where: Lobby, then out to the city.
When: Monday? I think.
Warnings: Awkward times. Sibling times
Notes: Incomplete log.
Normally, Simon didn't pay much attention to what he wore when he went out, because when he did go out, he didn't have any intention on 'impressing' people or catching their eye. But today, it mattered. Not because he wanted to dress to impress, but because this was an important moment and Olivia was, quite possibly, an important person in his life. Today was no day for ripped jeans and shabby shirts.
When he finally did make it down to the lobby, he felt like a wreck, but at least he looked presentable in the dark-washed jeans and blue polo. A quick glance at his watch saw he was just a few moments early, so in an effort to calm his nerves, he settled against the edge of the entry way desk, arms folded over his chest, chin tucked down just a bit. It was happening so quickly and while Simon knew he could and would be able to deal with it.. in time. But for now? It was taking all that he had to simply not find a restroom to get sick in again.
Aura had worked through the night at the hospice, and she was glad of the still other-worldliness, which helped keep her nerves at bay. She spoke with several of the patients she was familiar with, the ones who had been there for months and could still talk. She'd sat on the edges of their beds, and she'd held their hands and talked about her hopes and fears, and they (always glad for her companionship in the final moments) had listened and soothed.
By the time she left the hospice that morning, three of her nighttime companions had passed on, and by the time she showered and crawled into her bed, she was exhausted enough from using her ability that sleep came easily.
She woke at 2, and she gave herself an unprecedented hour to get ready. (Aura usually showered and dressed in 15 minutes). She even had a moment, when she stood at the mirror in her room (the one with a Starfleet Academy sticker across the top), when she wished she was more like her sisters, full of easy laughter and soft pink cheeks. That wasn't her, though, and she wasn't going to pretend, not for someone that mattered. And Simon mattered, twin or no, he mattered.
The elevator down to the lobby took both too long and went too fast, and when the doors opened, she stepped out in a white t-shirt and pair of cargo pants with black combat boots.
The sound of the elevator arriving at the lobby drew his attention, and Simon looked up, offering her a quiet smile in greeting. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, pushing away from the elevator to meet her halfway through the lobby, feeling a bit awkward, unsure of how to proceed. Their time at the gallery had been full of revelations, emotions running high and wild. But now that things had settled, the reality that could be their truth staring them in the face, Simon wasn't sure how things would go.
But he let out a breath, tried to brighten his smile, though it helped only marginally. It was hard to look at her, at a face he felt he should recognize, features that should be familiar through years of companionship. But it was still too strange, and when he did meet her gaze, he could only hold it for a handful of heartbeats. So much, so soon, and Simon didn't want to feel that hurt and loss again.
She shared his nervousness. It was akin to seeing someone you hadn't seen in a very long time; that awkwardness that happens before two people become reacquainted and comfortable once more. She managed, however, to hold his gaze a few moments longer than he held hers, and she only looked away when he did, her cheeks reddening. "I watch movies," she said, which might have seemed completely random at first, "and sometimes I feel so embarrassed for the characters that I have to pause before I can watch again. I would totally pause us right now," she confessed, looking him over. He'd tried to look good for the occasion, she realized, and that made the butterflies in her stomach flutter with nervousness at her own appearance. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be possibly related to someone who has a functional relationship with eyeliner?"
That got his attention again, and he looked up towards her, one dark brow arching. “You’re kidding, right? About the eyeliner, I mean...” Simon swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump that had risen in his throat. The analogy about the movies had made him smile; she definitely was strange, but not in a way that was wrong or unappealing.
He shook his head then, holding out his hand to her. “Come on. Before another Olivia who wears eyeliner comes in here and claims to be my sister,” Simon said, his voice as light as it ever got when the man tried to joke.
She smiled at the joke, and she looked at his hand for a moment before reaching out for it. When she slid her fingers against his palm and wound them with his own fingers it was a slow, deliberate thing, taking the hand of someone she’d imagined for years and years - maybe. She tugged on his hand as she nodded toward the lobby doors, and she glanced over at him again, mainly because she couldn’t stop looking, catching tiny little things she hadn’t noticed the glance before. His voice modulation, for example, based on what he was saying.
“Tell me about your adoptive family?” she asked, because no matter what came of blood tests and dreaming, they did share that, they always would. She held onto the thought.
Fingers curled around hers gently, tightening after a moment as though he was afraid she would simply slip out of his grasp. Then, letting her lead the way to the lobby doors, he walked alongside her, inwardly marvelling at this new feeling, these emotions he hadn’t let himself feel in so long.
Once they were outside, beyond the walls of the building, he relaxed marginally, glancing towards her when she spoke again. “I... it’s funny that you ask about them. I haven’t seen or talked to them in a year now so...” Shoulders shrugged up and he remembered that last night, the bruised knuckles, the shock written over their faces as his younger brother slumped against the wall. It wasn’t a pleasant final memory of them. “They live in North Carolina. Nice family, about as nice as you could imagine. They... they were good to me. I wish I had been better to them.” His voice held a line of regret, quiet, clinging to his words like shadows.
“Did you grow up around here?” Simon asked, looking back to her again, the way the sun caught her hair, the way she moved and walked, committing every last bit to memory. He didn’t want to talk about himself, not now. This moment couldn’t be ruined.
She wondered what had happened to cause the regret that lined his voice, but she didn’t push or poke at it; he’d tell her when he was ready. “I grew up in Las Vegas,” she said, looking between them and watching their joined hangs swing in the hot, California air. “I think my parents moved when I was adopted because they had to, but that’s just a hunch from overheard whispers and sneaking at doors. I don’t have anything to base it on.”
“My family is wonderful,” she said honestly, because she’d always hoped that her brother (wherever he was) had ended up with parents as wonderful as she had. She went a little quiet and a little sober (even for her) a moment later, however. “I’ve never been like them, though, and I always wondered if-”
She didn’t finish the sentence, embarrassment overtaking her, and she shrugged, letting her shoulders rise and drop slowly. “I think I have a limit of five embarrassing sentences in a row. Quick, say something sarcastic.”
Simon gave her fingers a squeeze then, taking up his end of the conversation without missing a beat. “Of course you were never like them,” he said easily. “You’re strange. Remember?” His lips curled in a crooked smile, gaze finding hers in a sidelong look before he laughed, something he so rarely did.
“But as long as you were happy growing up...” He trailed off, wondering if that had been the case. She had said her family was wonderful, but wonderful things didn’t always mean happy people involved.
“Somewhere,” she said with sarcastic wistfulness, “somewhere there is a family of strange people missing one very strange daughter. Maybe they took someone who has a functional relationship with eyeliner home instead, by mistake. Maybe they look at her pink room and her Barbies and wonder what they did wrong.” She chuckled softly. “I always wanted to be one of the Munsters,” she said truthfully. “It’s not too late to back out, Casper.”
He was quiet for a long while, mulling over her words, the image they presented in his mind. Somehow, he couldn’t quite see her in that situation, but the possibilities of what life might have been had they not been adopted out... well, that was something to think on later. “Well they can keep the one they took by mistake,” Simon said quietly, fingers squeezing hers again. “I don’t think her and I would get along very well.” A small smile pulled at his lips and he glanced towards her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.
“I could say the same thing to you, Olivia,” he said evenly, giving her his full attention, that dark gaze of his intense and unwavering now. “But you’re still here. I don’t see you running from me.”
When he stopped, she immediately looked at his face, giving him her full attention. “I’m lucky. I already liked you,” she said, and it was truthful, regardless of the situation. “You didn’t try to change me.” That meant a lot to Aura, whose entire life had been about trying to fit into shoes that didn’t fit her. He hadn’t tried to change her, even in those brief conversations on the forum. “I’ve got the better end of the bargain here.”
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” Simon replied, letting out a soft sigh as he simply looked at her. “Why would I try to change you? You are who you are, and no one has the right to tell you to be or do anything else.” He paused, gaze shifting away, pondering on something that suddenly came to him. “The clinic is just a couple blocks away. Do you feel like being a little kid again? Just for a moment?” This side of him was new... different. A throw back to how he had been before the big revelation about his adoption, a point in his life that Simon willingly admitted had been a turning point. The smile was more relaxed, his gaze less guarded when he looked at her again. He had something up his sleeve.
“People perceive how I am as something that needs fixing,” she said, and she didn’t sound angry about it; she sounded resigned. “I’m like a leaky valve or a faulty carburetor.” She just barely refrained from making comments about needing to eject the core and detach the saucer section.
When he asked her if she felt like being a kid again, she looked around, almost as if it was a trick question and something was going to jump out of the shadows at her. Aura’s life revolved around death, and being a kid generally wasn’t on the agenda. When she looked back at him, though, his smile was so sweetly unguarded, that she found herself nodding. “Sure,” she said, “as long as your idea of being a kid doesn’t involve an easy bake oven or toy vanities.”
“And that’s why people should always get a second opinion on things like that. What one person views as faulty another one views as just fine the way it is.” Releasing her hand, Simon gave her another grin, reaching out to tuck a bit of hair back behind her ear that had been dislodged by the breeze. “And I left my easy bake oven back in my apartment. I was going to make you a cupcake when we were done.” Another smile, brief and fleeting before he turned around and crouched down just slightly, giving her his back.
“Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”
She looked at him like he was completely and utterly insane for a moment, and then she started laughing so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks. It was happy laughter, uncontrolled, because Aura really didn’t care about appearances and control and the fact that crying was not okay.
“Okay, you’re officially strange too,” she said between the laughter and the tears, and then she did as she asked, laughing too much to feel self-conscious about it. It was quite probable that they’d be arrested for insanity before they ever made it to the clinic, but she didn’t care. Her arm wound tightly around his neck, and she held on. “You can’t sue me if you throw your back out.”
The laughter surprised him at first, and the tears that followed had him alarmed, but when she spoke, he felt assured that he hadn’t breached some unknown line that said ‘no piggy back rides’. “And I wouldn’t sue you. I’d just ask for you help me ice it down at the end of the day,” Simon said with a glance over his shoulder before he hooked his arms around her legs and stood up in one smooth motion, shifting their combined weight for a moment to make sure that no one would fall.
Only when he felt comfortable with their position did he start back down the walk, ignoring the handful of looks that some of the passersby gave them. He was sure they made quite the sight, what with Aura’s tear-stained cheeks and his slightly smug smile, but at that point, Simon just couldn’t bring himself to care. “Besides,” he said, glancing back towards her as they walked. “If I carry you this way, I know you’re not going to run off on me.” And the way that he said it spoke that he was afraid of that very thing happening. Even if the test came back negative, there was already a connection here, fragile as it was, and Simon wanted to protect that.
“Not true,” she said, though she was still laughing through the words. “I know, from years and years of Vulcan training, that I can take you out with one well placed fingertip to the neck.” The people around them were definitely taking notice of them, and Aura had grown up displaced enough that she noticed every single one that looked their way. It wasn’t enough to get her to move, though. Instead, she wound her arms tighter around his shoulders, and she pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades. “Do you know if you were born first or second? I always wondered, but my parents didn’t know.”
“But if you did that,” Simon started, ignoring those who stared as he moved down the walk at a decent pace, “then I’d end up dropping you. I know you’re strange, but you can’t enjoy landing on a sidewalk, can you?” His lips were curled in a smile and he hefted her up just a bit higher, a playful bounce as he turned a corner to continue down the walk. “And I’m not sure. My parents didn’t know much about my birth. I don’t know how they had that postcard with your name on it, honestly. I get the feeling that...”
He paused, wondering how to put his words. “Well. That whoever our parents are? They wanted me very, very far away.”
She was quiet as she thought about what he’d just said, since it coincided with the aforementioned need to move to Las Vegas. Las Vegas, while still within fairly close driving range of Anaheim, wasn’t where her parents’ business had been when they’d adopted her. “My parents moved as soon as I was born. When my parents would have fights about the business doing badly when I was small, my papa would always say they had to move and leave the old business behind. I always thought that was strange.” She paused, going thoughtful and quiet again. “Why do you think they wanted you far away?”
Simon let out a breath, her words confirming his own ragged bits of information, and it made him frown the slightest bit. “I don’t know, honestly. The entire thing...” There was a quiet sigh and his pace slowed to an easy walk. “I don’t think my parents were supposed to tell me about it. I kind of... backed them into a corner.” He could remember how reluctant they had been, the way their eyes shifted as they tried to think of a way out of this situation. But he had pushed and prodded, observant enough to know that there was something being hidden.
“Maybe they just hated boys. Maybe...” Another pause and Simon stopped all together. “How often do you hear about twins getting adopted separately. That doesn’t happen often, does it?”
She slid down from his back when he stopped, and she walked around in front of him and tilted her head thoughtfully as she looked at him. “Is there anything strange about you?” she asked. It could have been a joke, or some more of her innate strangeness, or it could have been a completely honest question.
“Strange?” Simon repeated, not quite understanding her question or where it had come from. “You mean, other than giving someone a piggy back ride down the street?” He doubted that she meant anything like that, and he tried to think, going over things in his head, anything that might stick out. “Uhm... I’ve never broken a pair of shoelaces? Is that strange?”
She shook her head, even laughed a little, and then she grabbed his sleeve and tugged him along the sidewalk again. Well, there went the theory that she’d accidentally killed someone in the delivery room without meaning too. She’d come up with that one as a teenager, when she’d spent countless hours trying to figure out if her ability was somehow to blame for her (and her twin) being given away. Actually...
Actually, him not having any freaky krypton powers didn’t discount that theory. She might have killed someone, and they might have been scared of both of them. Theory still possibly valid. “You’re a superhero for shoelaces,” she said, giving him a warm smile.
Simon followed along beside her when she tugged him along, a look of confusion etched over his face. The question had been strange, coming out of the blue and he didn’t understand the significance. “Why did you ask me that? I mean, is there something strange about you? Other than what we’ve already talked about?” He turned his hand, grasping hers with his own and pulling them to a stop. “Is there something you know?”
“No,” she said truthfully, and then she sighed, because she’d promised not to lie to him, right? “I always wondered if I’d done something to make them give us up.” Maybe he’d leave it at that. Maybe. Hopefully.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and he felt like this was something he shouldn’t press. Not right now, at least. “I don’t think you did a thing,” Simon finally said softly, giving her fingers a squeeze before moving down the walk once more, the small clinic within sight. “You’re not the one who grew up all the way across the country, are you?”
“Maybe they were sending you far away from my strangeness,” she said, and she stopped walking for a moment when the clinic came into sight. Then, she looked over at him, and she took a deep breath, and she started walking again, her hand sliding back into his cautiously.
“Maybe.” He didn’t comment further on that, instead just holding her hand and walking with her to the clinic. There was a knot of nerves settling in his stomach, and he felt more than a little nauseous, but he managed to keep himself together. Somehow.
When they came to the clinic door, he pulled it open for her, releasing her hand to let her go in ahead of him. “After you, Olivia,” he said softly, quiet enough that others wouldn’t be able to hear his words.
He got quieter whenever he got nervous, she realized, and she nodded, not breaking the tense silence. She had, she realized, no idea what to do once she got inside the clinic, and so she just looked around at all the people sitting around for various tests, and she felt completely nervously panicked. Buck up, Aura. This was just an away mission. She squeezed his fingers, and she looked up into his eyes. “You still have to buy me lunch. Passing out now would be bad form.”
Her voice drew his gaze back to her once more, and he gave her a small, distant smile. “I’m not passing out. I don’t do that.” Another squeeze of her hand and he released his fingers, crossing over towards the reception desk to speak to the woman sitting there. “I had an appointment for 3:30. Simon Erikson?” There was a shuffle of papers before the lady instructed him to have a seat; the doctor would be with them shortly. After that was done, he returned to Aura, arms folded over his chest in a common posture for him. “I made us an appointment,” he explained, inclining his head towards the chairs that littered the waiting area. “The doctor will be with us soon. We can sit down, if you’d like.”
She slipped into a chair gratefully. There was no one due to die in the waiting room, which was nice, and she glanced at him again with eyes that were knowing and wise and so much older than her age. Once she was suitably reassured that he was nowhere near his date, she leaned back in the chair and crossed her thighs. “Casper,” she said, nodding toward the seat beside her. His posture, arms crossed when he was feeling something strongly, made her feel protective of him. “I think I feel protective of you,” she admitted, looking up at him.
Simon took the chair beside her, one leg crossing over the other so his ankle rested against his knee. “The feeling’s mutual,” he said softly, glancing over towards her, his posture never relaxing, fingers pressed in tight to his upper arms. He never considered himself a weak person, but he had never had so much to lose until now, and he was willing to do anything he could to keep that from happening.
A breath escaped him and he closed his eyes, fingers digging into his arms, the tension radiating off of him in thick waves that were almost palpable in the still air of the waiting area.
She reached over, and she rested her hand on of the hands he was using to cut off the circulation to his upper arm. Her touch was light and careful (she didn’t want to hurt him), and maybe, she thought hopefully, maybe she couldn’t. Maybe, if he was her twin, he was immune to her freaky death fingers. It was possible.
Simon looked over when her fingers brushed against his, trying to give her a smile though it was faint and tight around the corners. He didn’t say anything, instead turning his hand and giving her fingers a small squeeze. It would be all right. Somehow.
They called his name a moment later, and she nodded to him, letting him know to go, that it would be fine. She was 24 years old, and she could sit in a waiting room by herself... maybe.
His head lifted at the sound of his name and he unfolded his arms from against his chest, rubbing his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “The appointment is for both of us. It’s nothing complicated, they assured me,” he said quietly, rising up and holding his hand out to her, his gaze unwavering from her face.
The fact that she was grateful she got to go back with him was obvious as she took his hand and rose to her feet. She knew about DNA testing; Law and Order was very informative, and while she wasn’t normally scared of Q-Tips (or swabs) today was a little different. As the nurse led them back, the familiar surroundings soothed her somewhat. “I have a nursing degree,” she told him; an admission that was prompted by nerves and really didn’t have any bearing on the long walk they were taking down a very short hall.
The hallway was nondescript, plain walls and even more generic carpet, and Simon glanced over towards Aura at her admission. “So this is at least a bit familiar?” he asked, giving a nod of thanks as they turned into the room the nurse directed them to. Luckily, it wasn’t an exam room of the normal type, instead holding a desk with two chairs in front and another behind it. It held some of the normal bits of medical paraphernalia that he couldn’t name, but at least it felt comfortable. The nurse told them that the doctor would be with them shortly before closing the door and leaving them to their own company for the moment.
“Well, the people I work with generally don’t walk down the halls themselves,” she said, and she probably would have expanded on that if the nurse hadn’t interrupted to usher them into the room. She walked up to the desk, and she touched the wood at the corner, the touch reminiscent to the way she had touched his oil painting at the gallery. She didn’t let go of his hand as she let her fingers touch the grain, as she got an impression off the desk itself, and she barely noticed when the door behind them opened and the doctor walked in.
Simon glanced up when the doctor entered, giving him a small nod of his head, but the tight grip he held on Aura’s fingers spoke of the tension that still ran through him so thickly. After being instructed to sit, he went about explaining the procedure and how long the results would take to come back. Simon barely heard a word that was said, however, just watching Aura, his gaze never leaving her face and profile.
She was nervous, and it was obvious if you knew her mannerisms, which he didn’t yet. And when the doctor talked, she listened, her fingers running over the arm of the chair and just barely tightening in his own. “Please tell science that is entirely too long to wait for the results,” she told the doctor, because Aura always felt a sense of power in saying what wasn’t expected. The doctor sputtered, and he looked at Simon to verify the woman sitting beside him was being serious.
When silence came, he moved his attention back to the doctor before simply nodding in agreement. “She’s serious,” he said quietly, trying for a smile but it faded away quickly. A breath escaped him and he tried to relax. “Let’s get this show on the road, hmm? No need to waste time.” The doctor stared at them for a bit longer before he shook his head in disbelief. Gloves were pulled on and he approached each with a buccal swab, and after a quick swab of their inner cheeks each, he sent them on their way.
It all felt so... anti-climatic, Simon thought as he got up to his feet, glancing towards Aura.
“It helps, I think, that they don’t have to wait two weeks for results on television,” she said when he glanced over at her. “We should have something decidedly cheerful for lunch,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “To celebrate. I can mock everything, and it’ll make me feel better.”
Now that it was said and done, he had relaxed slightly, his arm hooked with his as he led the way out of the office, quiet until they had gone a block away. “Where do you suggest we go, then?” Simon asked, glancing over towards her.
She wanted to suggest taking him to some of her places, the places that mattered to her, but they were all dark and somber; she thought it might be a better idea to wait until he couldn’t reject her due to blood relations before springing hospitals, graveyards and churches on him. “How much did you hate Disneyland?” she asked him, looking up at him and squinting in the afternoon sun. She reached up, and she pushed his hair off his forehead so she could see his eyes.
He met her gaze, the touch that he could become quite used to feeling, and he was quiet for a moment before he tilted his head slightly to the side, returning the favour as he brushed a bit of hair away from her face, tucking it back behind one ear. “Too many people,” he admitted quietly. “I’m more of a... quiet evening in the library sort of person. Not that the rides were bad.”
“Maybe we are related after all,” she said, and she tugged his hand and pulled him to the edge of the sidewalk and across the road to a bus stop. “I can show you something you might like,” she said with a smile. “If you’re willing to forgo the pink barbie lunch.”
It was easy to follow along beside her, and he dimly realised that he would likely follow her anywhere that she led him. “I’m not sure if I can live without that,” he said in response. “Will you still let me make you a cupcake in my Easy Bake oven when we’re done?”
She affected a very dramatic sigh, and she entered the bus ahead of him with a shake of her head to the driver, who looked like was very accustomed to strange people. “My brother, the comedian,” she said to the man, and her face lit up just a touch at the word brother. By the time she flopped down onto a distressed looking black, vinyl seat, she was smiling, and she crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him.
“Only around you,” he said in response, taking a seat beside her and in a similar pose. And really, it was true. His serious attitude was almost legendary around those that encountered him, and this more light-hearted nature was certainly new, even to him. But he settled beside her, pleased to have given her something to be so happy about. And he was too... he just sucked at showing it.
She watched the scenery pass outside, and when the got near Antique Alley, as the locals called it, she pulled on the rope and pushed at his shoulder.
At her touch and the feel of the bus stopping, Simon rose to his feet, holding out his hand for her. Being so physical was really not like him, but somehow it was different with her. Everything was different with Aura. “So where exactly are you taking me?” he asked once the bus had pulled to a stop, glancing towards her.
“Where no one has ever gone before,” she said, because it was just so easy to say, and she passed him and took his hand again, leading him to the front of the bus and down the steps and onto the sidewalk.
Antique Alley was precisely what it promised to be; a row of antique warehouses, some with small cafes inside, others with books, and Aura liked going there and sitting among the old things, even if she preferred to steer clear of literary fiction. She pulled him into one of the darker-lit warehouses, and she motioned to the old chairs and tables littered throughout the warehouse. It was quiet, despite being decently crowded, and the clutter gave the place a feeling of privacy.
He let himself be led by his hand, and though a part of him was sure that their surroundings were worth paying attention to, the only thing Simon could focus on was her. There were twenty four years of memories and experiences to make up for, and he didn’t want to forget a moment of this.
There was a blink as she pulled him into a dark warehouse, glancing about for the first time before his gaze found her back once more. It was dark, peculiar, and more than a little strange... and he could see exactly why she was drawn to it. Without saying a word, he took the lead, pulling her to a table and going so far as to pull her chair out for her, a small, hidden smile on his lips.