a/n: a post apocalyptic fic, dollhouse inspired i guess. the mythology behind what's happening isn't important but if you're curious, it's basically people losing their memories/trying to steal other people's bodies by putting your memories into them.
we're not outsiders at all
carter/jenny
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i.
He remembers a time when there were still luxurious things - silks, wine, cocaine, immense wealth, candles. He remembers the excess of partying and drinking and the sex— oh, Carter remembers the sex. He remembers the girls he'd meet in bars, the boys he'd meet at clubs and the girls he chased but who's hearts he never won (He remembers Serena). He remembers how it felt to be kissed, like coming home, like everything else was a mess but if he could focus on this, just this then somehow tomorrow would turn out okay.
It's not like that anymore. His world is different now (all their worlds are different now). Sex and drugs and alcohol are a thing of the past now; he locks the memories of those times up in his brain and swallows the key to those memories. He's one of the lucky few who's memories are still intact, some aren't so lucky; they walk around the city like zombies, unaware of who they are or who they've been. He ran into Nate Archibald once, sitting on the curb of a street, looking out blankly towards the burning city.
Carter remembers the first day the buildings went up in flames. He watched from his penthouse view, as the building burned and burned and burned, 'till it was crisp in the ground. Blair had rolled her eyes from where she was lying on the couch, Serena shaking on the floor. "It's the end of the world." Blair had said bitterly, to anyone who was listening, maybe to no-one at all. It had been the three of them for a little bit until Serena had gotten infected, her memories wiped until she was just a blank slate and they had to leave her behind; Blair had sobbed for an hour, hitting his chest and screaming at him. Up until that point she'd been the rational one, cutting ties with everyone they'd ever met if they'd been infected. Blair had been the distant, cold, unemotionally attached one until she saw her best friend huddled in a corner, unaware of who she was or what was happening.
He lost Blair soon after that, not to the infection but just because she said it was better if she was on her own. He remembers the night he came across her in an abandoned building, covered in blood and smelling like fear. Her hands shook as she hugged him, I'm fucking gone, she'd whispered before slinking back into the shadows, away from him and the rest of the world. He hadn't chased her or looked for her or tried to help her; he wasn't ever that person to begin with and he sure as hell isn't that person now. It's hard enough just to try and save himself.
For months he's been by himself, wandering the broken New York City and fighting off body snatchers. One, two, three - they're coming for you, they're coming for me. Kids sing it on the streets, sitting next to broken glass and shells of loved ones who'll never return to them. He remembers all he's lost, surprising, since he never thought he'd ever have anything to lose.
He finds her right when he was starting to lose hope; when it looked like living was more pointless than trying to survive. When being by himself was starting to drive him insane when all he needed was companionship. She's his saving grace, his salvation and Jenny Humphrey doesn't even want to look at him twice.
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ii.
It's cold. He thinks it must be winter. "Do you wanna find someplace warm?" He asks Jenny. Little Jenny Humphrey who'd found him a few days earlier curled up on the street in his own vomit, who had stayed with him until he woke up and then promptly slapped him for getting her brother killed and for sleeping out in the open where anybody could snatch his body.
"How are we gonna do that?" She asks wryly, all hope from her gone. Jenny and her brother Dan had been with Serena and Blair to start with. The virus had started circulating in the lower class before it spread everywhere. Carter had joined them two weeks after the virus had spread. He remembers that first week— Jenny lying on a windowsill, talking about death and life and how everything is going to hell anyway, she guesses; Blair rolling her eyes at Jenny's pretentious babble and Dan telling her to be nice, that's his sister. Serena in a corner, lost and confused and hardly herself at all, (but her memories had still been intact; she'd still been Serena). He remembers Jenny talking to him when everyone else ignored him, making him feel welcome, giving him blankets and telling him that they're all gonna keep on fighting because they all still have each other left. It wasn't much longer after that that Dan had his mind wiped, murderous memories implanted and tried to kill Serena— Carter had done the only thing he could think of, he'd stabbed Dan, (againagainagain).
He looks at the girl next to him now. Her hair is shorter than it was when all of them were together. Her dress is the same one he last saw her in, the blue now a brown-red of blood and dirt. Serena and Blair had cried but had been quick to forgive him, telling him it wasn't Dan anymore, there was no way he could have been saved— it's the mission, gotta remain unattached at all times. It wasn't him, Blair had told him. But Jenny— she was a different story; she'd been cold and furious and told him to go to hell. Told him they could find a cure and that it was Dan. She hadn't been the girl who'd given him blankets or welcomed him, or told them all that everything was going to end, anyway. This girl was more defeated than he'd ever seen anyone in his life; she'd slapped him and kicked him and left.
"We look." He snaps back. He likes Jenny but he doesn't have the patience for a grudge, not right now. Her lips are pressed in a firm line, arms crossed defensively over her chest. He doesn't understand why she's here, with him, but he's thankful; he doesn't think he would last another day without her. Jenny huffs but follows him as he unlocks a door that leads to an abandoned bakery. He's stayed here a few times but always leaves before he gets too comfortable.
"It's nice." Jenny says in astonishment, raking her eyes over the place. Broken glass lies on the floor, smashed in window frames, it's dirty— there's smears of blood on the ground and dirt everywhere but it's nicer than all of the other places Jenny has been to lately. It's chairs and tables are still in tact and the counter looks mostly clean and Jenny can't see from here but she thinks the kitchen is going to be clean, too.
"It has blankets, hot water, the kitchen is still usable and the last time I was here there was food stashed in a cupboard." Carter says, moving in front of Jenny to go and find the blankets. He looks back over his shoulder briefly as he goes, catching sight of the first genuine smile he's seen on Jenny since he killed Dan. Her eyes have lit up, her smile so blinding when he looks at her— he tells himself to save it to memory because he's afraid he might never see it again.
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iii.
"Do we have to leave?" Jenny asks, three days after they'd settled into the bakery. Carter knows that they have to, that staying in one place for too long is dangerous, that you've always gotta be on the move but she stops him. She's sitting on a stool at the counter, her dress cleaner than when they first met again, her hair untangled and clean; he sees himself in the reflection of the glass, looking the same— clean.
Before he can open his mouth, to say yes or no or maybe because he's still undecided, she says, "You can go but I'm staying." He knows then that he doesn't have a choice to leave because wherever Jenny goes he's going to follow. She swings off of the stool and walks towards the kitchen area, refusing to look at him as she goes, he catches her arm as she walks past him.
"I'm staying, too, then." He says softly. He's surprised when she doesn't pull away from him, but instead looks up at him. Her eyes soft and her face relaxed. This is the girl he remembers back when everything bad was just starting to happen, a mix of hard and soft but mostly soft; he wonders what she was like before all this, he knew of her but never knew her.
"I forgive you, Carter." Jenny says then. He doesn't think he heard her right. "I was just— He was my brother, and the only family I had left. It was difficult. It wasn't like it was for you, or Blair, or Serena, you all had each other; I didn't fit in there without Dan."
His hand is still curled around her forearm and she's looking up at him with big, wide eyes. He gets what she means because he didn't belong there with Blair or Serena. He hasn't belonged anywhere his whole life. He stayed because he had nowhere else to go, because Serena and him had had a fling from way back when and he could still remember what it felt like to kiss Blair. He stayed because he's known both those girls his whole life and because he's slept with them both and they're all he had left. They were the last bit of hope and the last bit of a life he'd lost a long time ago, (way before this virus and war ever started) so he'd stayed. He lets his hand slip from Jenny's arm and leads her over to a table. She slides into one seat and he slides into the other.
"I'm sorry about Dan." He says because he doesn't think he wants to tell her that he didn't fit in there, either.
"Don't be. It had to be done. I was just too upset to see that it wasn't my brother, just someone who looked like him and was dangerous." Jenny flits him a soft smile.
"It's still okay to be upset about it."
"Yeah," Jenny says, smiling, "But it's you, Carter. I can't stay upset at you."
He thinks his heart beats faster than it's ever beat before; his palms are slightly sweaty and when he looks up and smiles at her, he thinks that maybe not everything goes to hell. He wants to ask why me but he's never been very good at words, so instead he leans over the table and cups her cheeks in his hand, thumb brushing against her skin before pushing his lips against hers. Jenny makes a strangled surprised sound that comes from the back of her throat before she leans into the kiss, elbows on the table as he opens his mouth up. It's an awkward position to be kissing at, they're both uncomfortable but neither makes an effort to move.
Jenny is the first to pull away, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. "Sorry, that was uncomfortable." She says, eyes widening as she shakes her head. "No— not the kiss, the position. You know, leaning over the table." She rambles and Carter laughs; the first real laugh in a long time. He knows things are going to be okay now, he just knows that; he doesn't know how or why, just that it can only get better or stay the same.
He wants to kiss her again. But, "I think maybe us getting involved isn't a good idea." Jenny says, tucking her hair behind her ear as she studies the floor, she wrings her hands together before looking back up at him. "We only have each other, Carter— it's not-" She shakes her head, "It's not a good idea."
Carter gets where she's coming from but he knows she's wrong. If they only have each other, why shouldn't they get involved? Jenny smiles at him once more, gets up and then disappears out into the kitchen.
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iv.
He can't stop looking at her. It's been weeks, maybe months, since they last kissed (it's hard to keep count on more than a few days). It's been a long time since they kissed, basically, and he can't stop thinking about it or her or looking at her. Jenny catches him staring one night, they've been on the move for a while and have set up camp where he thinks Tiffany's used to be before it was burnt down to a crisp.
"Is there something on my face?" She asks. He shakes his head.
"No, you just look beautiful." He smirks. Jenny rolls her eyes, going back to looking out for any body snatchers.
He leans backwards until his back is flat against the ground and looks up at the sky.
"Careful, Carter." Jenny says when she sees him lying back, hands on her hips as she towers over him.
"Careful, Jen." He mocks, smirking up at her.
"Hey, before this," Carter says, waving his hand around the broken city, "What was your life like?" He asks. They don't talk about before. Most of the time they talk about how fucked everything is, where they're going to go next, what they have to do to survive. Sometimes they'll mention something from the past, how they miss a song they like or how they're craving a certain food but they never go into details; it's an unspoken rule he's just now broken.
"It was- I don't know." Jenny sighs, flopping down onto the ground next to him. She lies back, too, indulging in the simple act of lying down. It's not something they can do often when they've gotta keep their eyes open. Carter reaches out for her, brushing his thumb against her cheek; her eyes flutter closed an instant as she leans into the touch. Sometimes it's nice to just pretend their lives don't suck.
"I was so lost for so long, you know?" She says quietly.
"I know. I was lost, too." It sounds like something that belongs in a rom-com script but it's the truth. He's never belonged.
"I had moved out of New York, you know. I had only come back because Dan asked me to." It's silent between them. Jenny pauses for a few seconds, gathering the courage to dive right into everything she's ever bottled up. "I thought for the longest time Dan hated me. I wasn't the little kid sister he'd grown up with anymore. I had grown up and with growing up I acted out. He never got it, he never understand anything I was going through. Then I left and we hardly spoke at all. I think I went a year without talking to him once. But when he called and asked me to stay with him for the weekend, I went. I went and I stayed because he asked me to not go back to Hudson. It was the first time in years that I thought maybe my brother didn't hate me."
Carter is silent next to her, his hand had moved from her face to her hands half way through her talking. He intertwines their fingers together, squeezes her hand in support.
"It's why I was so upset when he died." She whispers. He gets it now. "What about you?" Jenny asks, turning around to face him. Carter doesn't know if Jenny wants him to ignore the tears flowing down her face or to comfort her.
"I, uh." He doesn't want Jenny to know. He doesn't want her to know about the times he stole, or lied, or slept with everyone and anyone. He doesn't want to brag about all the good stuff he did when he was away from New York travelling. He doesn't want to tell her about the time he left a Buckley girl at the altar and had to work off his debt. It's all things Jenny probably knows anyway, thanks to Gossip Girl, but he still doesn't want to tell her.
"It was eventful. I did a lot of stuff I'm not proud of." He says at last. Jenny shifts herself over to her side, balancing her head on her hands.
"Okay. Cut the vague. I just told you, like, the most personal thing to recently happen to me and that's all I get?" Jenny's smiling as she says it but he can tell that she's being serious.
"Before this started, right before it started, I'd just gotten divorced." He doesn't think about her often. He doesn't like to think about her at all. "It had ended badly and the first thing I did once I had signed those papers was turn up on Serena's doorstep. It wasn't because of the virus or anything, it was because I thought I was still in love with her."
"Were you?" Jenny asks.
"I don't know." Carter sighs.
He doesn't know how he felt about Serena but he knows how he feels about Jenny: he loves her. He rolls over on his side, shuffling closer towards her and kisses her. Jenny gasps in surprise before kissing him back.
He loves her, he thinks as he kisses her. He loves her and the world is going to hell.
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v.
(It ends like this
— it doesn't end at all).