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title:April Shrödinger.
Rating:K / K+
author:Rodlox.
summary:Uncertainty creeps in after April leaves.
part 1's POV:Maia.
part 2's POV:Diana.
AU coda to Carrier.
spoilers:Voices Carry, Carrier. (ignoring that whole nonsense about the bus station)
Author's note:I heard the term "swat up" on BBC America, and I couldn't resist the urge to put it in the fic.
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MAIA'S POV:
I knew she was going to bet, I knew who was going to lose, and I knew what Aunt April's reaction was going to be, but it still hurt. It had to happen, that I know, but I didn't like doing it. She liked me, trusted me, I know it.
She left when mom came home, most of Aunt April's worldly possessions still in the guest bedroom, her gift to us she said, and I know she's not coming back for them. Mom's in the bedroom reading Aunt April's goodbye letter. I look in and say "Mom?" as her lips shape the written words 'I'm through being an artist.'
Mom looks at me; says "Come in." I walk in and sit next to her on the bed; I know I'm too big to sit on a lap. "You okay?" mom asks me, putting an arm around me; I nod: I know how I am. Her free hand's still holding Aunt April's letter. "Your aunt explained what happened." I know: I read the letter when she was in the bathroom. "She wanted you to know -" I fall back, my hands clutching my head, I wince and my sound turns into a hiss. "Maia?" I know, I know, I kn-
Nothing. My mind's not blank . . . there's so many things there; the future's fragmenting, it "It hurts," I say, sitting back up. I was wrong. Everything's clear, the future's clean and nice and neat. There's only one piece that's fuzzy and sort. "Aunt April," I say. "She's in...trouble, I think."
Mom nods, helping me to my feet as she stands up herself. "Get your shoes on," she tells me as she heads for the door.
I have to say it but I know I have to say it: "It's going to rain; I know that. But I don't know what's going to happen to Aunt April." She said she doesn't have a steady income, and I still thought money would be a good test. Even with how papa always saved every bit of money he earned, even with how mama saved all the rubber and stockings for the military collection drives; I still thought money was the best bet. I was in my Sunday best when I stopped being in 1946, and I clearly learned nothing.
"Its okay," mom says, stopping to look at me.
"No." No its not. "No." I know that. "She's in a car crash at a street corner, and she's driving past that corner; she's dead in a restaurant, and she's leaving that restaurant. I don't know what's going to happen!" My parents always told me not to shake, not to sob, not to fall to my knees; so I don't; I want to.
"It'll be okay," mom tells me, about to come back to give me a hug.
I run past her, hurrying to the front door, saying a rushed "I hope so."
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DIANA'S POV:
We headed right for the library. If there's one thing that being April Skouris' sister has taught me, its to always know where April is, which is why I put a GPS tracker in her wallet. Once I've parked, I tell Maia, "Wait here -- I'll be right back with her, don't worry." Not sure if I can keep myself from worrying, now that Maia's seeing something that, from the sounds of it, sounds a lot like quantum uncertainty - Heisenberg's proof and Shroedinger's cat. Maia nods but doesn't look happy about agreeing to it.
I shut the door behind me and go inside the library, heading right for the desk where they take applications, and that's exactly where April is: sitting at the table beside that desk, filling out a form. I walk up behind her and say "April?"
"A minute, Di, that's all I ask." Okay, I can do that. I just hope Maia's found a good station on the radio. April signs the form, and hands it to the librarian behind the desk, and turns to look at me. "You're going to shoot me, aren't you?"
What? "No," I insist.
"I broke Maia's trust," April says. "She told me what she saw," and you believed her, that's important, "and I used that information for my own ends." That information and the engagement ring Dad asked us to keep an eye on. "So just go home. I'll see you...when I see you." Last time you told me that was a year after you graduated college, and I didn't see you since then until after I'd adopted Maia; I say so. "Yeah, my timing sucks, but its all in character for me." Okay, now you're just being self-flagellating. "You were right," April tells me. "Once again, you were right and I was wrong."
"April, this isn't about who was right," I tell her.
"Yes - it - is," vhelmently. "You kept telling me I needed to get a real job, something with steady pay. And what did I do? I did odd jobs, been doing them ever since I graduated. So yeah, you were right, sibling."
Something tells me she's not trying to rub my nose in this. "Maia's worried about you."
"I appreciate that, and I'll be careful, I will. But she's why I left -- don't get that look on your face, Di, I left so I'd get a job that pays good and pays steady." And she gives me a smile, though it doesn't reach her eyes; some brave face, sibling. "Who knows, maybe I'll get a job here. I don't doubt you already got Maia a library card, so maybe I could arrange a sneak peek at books that're about to go up on the For Sale rack and the New Books shelf."
"Sounds like a plan," I say, wondering why she didn't do this years ago. It probably wouldn't have kept her from getting two of her tattoos, but it'd be a start.
"That means a lot," and she says it like it does; okay, so maybe I wasn't the best sister in the world, but still... "Ask Maia not to worry, that I'll be fine. Tell her I'm a Skouris, she's a Skouris, and all's well and forgiven."
Well, that's comforting. But there's one other matter, one I need to talk with Maia about, but hadn't the heart to talk about it while she was upset with all of this. "About mom's ring -" I start to say.
"That's my fault."
"You wouldn't have -"
"I could've stuck with my two hundred dollar bet, but I didn't. Maia had nothing to do with it."
"April, I'm your sister, I know you. You bet money on hunches, on 'pretty-sures'," as you call them. "You might be able to tell me you'd've bet the two hundred on your own, but with everything I know about you, you'd never have bet mom's ring unless you were sure it was an absolute certainty." For a second, there's a flicker of acceptance, of allowing that, on her face -- and then she firms up.
"It was all me, Di." Do I need to remind you who picked the winning lotto ticket? Maia confessed to that during the car ride, and without me asking. "My fault. And don't you try to get me to share the blame with your daughter -- you're not mom."
"I never said I was."
"You were about to start arguing like her." She sighs, reaches into her pocket and hands me forty dollars. "Take Maia to dinner sometime this week, buy her shoes, something."
"This is your money," I tell her. "Even if you get this job -"
"'Even if'...you never change, Di. Always, whenever I try for something, you belittle, assume I'll fail. Even dad was better than you."
"True; all dad ever wanted was for you to sing on key."
"I have a lousy singing voice, I admit it. But that has nothing to do with Maia.
"I've got enough to help me get by until my first check comes in, sibling. Now if you don't mind, I need to swat up on my librarying skills," April says. 'Swat up'? Sibling, we're 6th-generation Cypriot-Americans, we're not British.
THE NEXT DAY:
DIANA'S POV:
Marco looks awful happy, and while I'm glad he's glad, I'm also a little worried. I mean, if this is his reaction to me agreeing to go out - as in outside NTAC - for coffee, then would going to dinner with him put him in a coma? I don't want that.
"But what makes no sense," I say, picking our conversation back up when he sits back down at our table and hands me the coffee I asked for, his own coffee before him, "is that April's the only person that's bothering Maia like this. She wrote 'mommy's bosses will be punished' in her diary, yet I've never seen her act like that before."
"Maybe it never happened before. Maybe the whole 'mommy's bosses' part was completely abstract to her."
"While something involving April was firsthand experience," I say, and he nods. "That would explain it, and I hope Maia recovers from it." Right now she's at Carrie's while Carrie's grandmother is overseeing a sleepover - they're going to watch Sinatra all night long. I know Maia appreciates it.
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the end.