Leave.
She just has to leave. That's the only thought that keeps repeating in her head as she stomps away from John and through her portal.
She's spent all evening stewing over what she heard yesterday morning and later saw in that abandoned warehouse. The cloud of pink, dreamers misty eyes her presence and then John.
Even now just the though of him has her stomach dropping but unlike before the images that have been plaguing her shift quickly and leave her with an after taste of bitterness, defeat and shame.
He knew.
She had suspected it before; his eyes searching hers after he got out of the car, the way he held himself rigidly since the incident, the forced smile he'd send her way every damn time their eyes would meet across the room. He. Knew. And now to have it confirmed and then promptly brushed aside; it hurt her more than she ever wanted to admit, more than she ever would.
There had been a nanosecond, in which she had hoped that he had no idea when Dreamer had first confirmed her fears. A half a day where she waited for him, anyone of them really but him, to say something, anything; to offer an apology or an explanation. But the rhythm of the day had swept everyone up as more refugees had arrived and she had been pulled by Caitlyn to help Lauren and Andy with the wounded and before she knew it, the sun had begun to set and she found herself plopped on the couch with Zingo by her side.
And then he had come in with his arrogant ass request looking all polite and cautious in that tight stupid shirt that seemed to barely fit his ridiculous arms and never seemed quite buttoned; looking at her with those stupid puppy eyes and for once she had been pissed off enough to push all that side. He may be hot but he was just as stupid if he thought she wouldn't care to bring up his silence. And to say it was complicated? That was just humiliating. Just say no, it wasn't real, "there was nothing special about it Clarice" how hard could it fucking be to say that? Why give her that sliver of hope that her heart clutched too! Thank fucking god her bruised pride and ego were what driving her right now. She lands in the clearing just past the creek behind the compound were she took Zingo every time he seemed too restless. Maybe Zingo can be her happy thought she thinks which brings a half smile to her face but it doesn't last long as John's face again rushes to the front of her mind.
The worst thing is that its not even the memory clip, hasn't been for days, every interaction, every look she's been hyper aware of him and that's how she caught that look back at the warehouse. The leaves rustle about her and the wind picks up and she realizes she has no jacket or supplies and she needs to get her meager stuff from inside. John will be leaving the compound soon, she heard dreamer mutter about the danger of his "volunteer vet work" late last night and it pisses her off that she knows his freaking schedule. She'll give it a couple more minutes and then zap back in grab her stuff and leave. She doubts John will have shared her absence yet.
Not that they would care if they found out, at least no further than to think bummer there goes our perfect escape rout. Did they know? The entire teams silence causes doubt and a different sort of hurt somewhere in her mind. The fact that it does hurt makes her more mad cause till a week ago it was just her and her alone. They fucking made her believe that maybe, just maybe she'd found a place to bunker down, people to bunker down with. Now she couldn't help but question on whether or not the others knew and if they did then her blood is pumping enough for her to take on all of them. Did Marcos know? Lorna? The Struckers? She's emotional enough that a second portal back into the second floor of HQ comes easily to her and then she's rushing toward her room. It's late and people are beginning to wind down but she feels beyond energized. Did they know?
They all did she thinks, they must have. Even her own "kind" had no plan but to use her for all she's worth she seethes and she will make them all pay for invading her the way they had. She will hurt them for making her feel this vulnerable she swears as she stomps her way down the hall. She swore to herself when she first escaped her hell hole that she would not become someone else's tool ever again and for them to misuse her trust like this; she can't help but shake her head at her own idiocy for trusting them so quickly. She had people she needed to fin, especially because she had no answers, no clues. John at least had everyone here and god only knew how many out their who were all trying to help him; an entire family of friends while she had been trying for years to find a hint about where she came from. She should have known better and god only knows what else they may have done, the thought causes her loud step to pick up in speed as heat rushes to her face. She has no qualm about tearing this place apart, brick by brick-
"Shhhhhh"
The sound whips out from a corner and bounces around the walls, halting her in her tracks. Someone hushes at her a second time as she passes one of the many rows of huts set up for the ever growing number of refugees that have been streaming into the safe house and while she whirls to give the accuser a piece of her mind and a taste of her wrath she freezes when her gaze locks with an exhausted mother, gently rubbing circles on her daughters back. A pair of big brown eyes peak up at her from beneath a layer of worn blankets that once had stars strewn upon them, and while the curious eyes look at her with a mixture of curiosity and awe, small fingers tug and twist at the corners of the blanket.
They both look worn, tired beyond belief and seconds away from collapsing; but more than anything they look relieved and its that relief that makes her plans to level this stupid joint falter. The mother gives her a half smile and while Clarisse wants to smile back, her lips refuse to move. She tries to swallow but the righteous fury that had seemed so inevitable in blowing over everything has now shrunk to tight ball that seems to have lodged itself deeply in her throat. The little girl with the big brown eyes gazes begins to loose focus, as her eyelids slowly start to droop as she looses the battle to sleep. A final sigh and a gentle snuggle towards her mother and the little girl's body signals defeat while a kiss placed on her head seals her fate.
Her heart falters. The lump in her throat grows heavier and expands settling on her chest.
The mother straightens her girl's blanket and after a moment reaches over to the bunk beside her and places a second blanket on her child. Clarice watches with awe as she straightens the blanket and after moment settles over on the bunk she had just plucked the blanket up. She reaches back in an effort to settle in when suddenly her gaze snaps to Clarice who hasn't moved an inch from when she entered and her look causes Clarice to nearly stumble.
She looks at Clarice with worry and concern filled with tones of compassion and tenderness and things that Clarice has never in her life seen directed at her in her life.
"Are you ok?" the women's voice is so soft so quite that for an instant Clarice thinks she may have imagined it but the women is still looking at her with the same eyes and so Clarice finds herself opening and closing her mouth trying to find words to alleviate the weight that seems to be clouding the look pinning her down.
But she cant speak or even utter a sound for the lump that settled somewhere deep within her is now trying to claw its way out and no matter how much she tries to stiffen the trembling of her lips or the tears that she feels welling up just of the surface she knows that she has moments if she's lucky before she looses control. And so desperately trying to remain calm and not cause alarm she nods her head and looks away from the foreign gaze. She spots a pile of blankets on the floor below from her vantage point and with the abundance of emotions she waves her hand and opens a small hole next to her, down below a purple gape opens by the pile of blankets, and she reaches in and grabs a blanket, before waving again and making the hole disappear.
She steps up to the mother and offers her the blanket and the woman who is looking at her with a more concerned look tentatively reaches out and grabs a hold of the offering. But before Clarice can let go she asks one more time in her soft voice "thank you; but are you're ok sweetie?" and its with a force that she never knew she had that Clarice firmly presses her lips together, still feeling them quiver and gives a small smile and nod before rushing out of the hallway, into her room, which she shares with six other people, before climbing out of the window and onto the roof. Her breath is coming out in short breath and her heart is beating fast in her ear and she's not sure what's happening but her pressed lips are not strong enough and the trembling causes them to fly open as a sob escapes her. Her hands fly up to try to suppress the strange noise that just escaped her but they too are shaking and with her back to the side of her bedroom window another sob escapes her And the pressure behind her eyes well up and tears begin to flow. And for the first time in thirteen years Clarice Fong begins to cry.
The moon is high in the night sky before the tears stop flowing. She's made sure to keep quite but the tears and the shuddering she hasn't been able to control and now, as the tears ebb away she feels lighter, lighter than she has in year.
She's been on the run for so long that feeling perpetually exhausted, hungry and weighed down is as familiar to her as normal probably was to the Strucker kids. But these past few weeks, she'd started to feel normal again. As though there was a chance that her life might have chance at a routine if nothing else.
Seeing that mother and daughter though that hit her hard. She hadn't lied to John when she'd said that she had people to find. Nor had she lied she said that she had never loved anyone. She'd been used for so long that trusting anyone romantically had always been a struggle, not foreign but a struggle. There had been a guy few years back that she'd traveled with for a bit and while he'd never meant anything to her more than a travel companion, he'd been the first person she shared herself with by choice.
It was the familial bond that she'd never had or experienced or hell, even seen. She's been nine when her father took her to the crack house the first time and sold her for a hit but even before then she remembers being locked for hours in the bedroom of run down motel. When she'd been twelve, in a fit of rage and drunkenness her father had revealed that he'd actually bought her from her family who had been about to kill her to hide their shame of having a "deformed" child.
"$25 dollars" he'd crowed slurring his words and heavily leaning on a couch to stay upright. "Fucking best $25 dollars I ever spent" and she had believed him until she'd found an old newspaper clipping two years later that had led her to believe that her family may actually be out there and looking and she had left. It's been more than a decade now of trying to stay alive and finding answers and still she was no closer than she was back then.
But looking at the way that mum had tucked her daughter in. The way Caitlyn seemed to have the need to always know where her children are to be able to breath. She can't help wonder again for the millionth time, from the moment she knew what a mom was, what was so wrong with her that she never deserved even an sounds of that caring sort of love in her life.
She wakes with the sun and shuffles back into the house, still in a foul mood. But this time its different than before.
She's mad at herself.
Mad that even for a moment she foolishly thought that she, the most unromantic individual in the world, had had a- a- John in her life.
She should have known that these emotions were not for her. That women like her did not inspire anything tender in others, especially men like john, especially not love. And that's what had been in his gaze, in that stupid memory that had nearly driven her to brink of insanity. His gaze had held love and for one senseless moment she had been foolish enough to think that it was directed at her.
For her.
She should have known better, known that girls like her were for seedy men and women who paid especially to be with a "Muty". That she was just a "side show track ho with her own built in specialty" as one madam had called her and that it didn't matter how old or how fucking young she was they'd all look at her with that sick twisted desire that was rooted in nothing but making her feel small and making them feel victorious.
She'd thought he was different. That they were different. Except that wasn't it cause while yes they didn't want her like that, or for that they still wanted just a specific part of her, her powers this time and who cares about the person they came with, the mind and hopeless heart attached to those powers they'd just override any part that didn't do as they wanted. Her father had used his fists and flexed his muscles every time she hadn't want to paint her face and go out and the underground? Well, they had their own sort of muscle that they flexed. She had left thirteen years ago when she had been tired enough of the punches and the backhands and the groping hands that had been the rotating hell hole of her life since she remembered. She had left that and she was not going back. Even if she couldn't stay at the one place that had felt most like home in all her life; leaving behind the one person who felt like home or at least used to.
AN: I have not written anything in month and then this show comes on and it's like I can't not write so here we are. I'm not sure where the show is taking them, and tbh I'm not exactly sure where Thunderbird is on his feeling for Clarice but I love the chemistry between him and Clarice so what can I say, I'm writing again. This story is un-betad so any mistakes please let me know. Also anyone know what the name of the invisible dude from the bar is? I started writing this when the sneak peak for 1x06 came out and then I saw the episode and this is my version of 1x06. I will be updating pretty rapidly and the whole should be up before 1x07. So drop me a line if you are intrigued and want more or if you want to gush about the show *Cough* Thunderblink *Cough*or just tell me how horrible of the story this is. I love reviews. and so yep, cheers lovelies- GQ2000