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325 days. Twelve months. One year. One year had passed since Charles Darnay's duplicate had vanished off the face of the earth. Since those sad shining eyes had slipped from view. Since that rare, but always beuatiful grin had died away. Since the tired and over worked body had been buried. The sun had risen for a year without the man that would cry himself to sleep. The moon had shone, cutting through the darkness with its white glow for a year, without him. The man that died 325 days, twelve months, and one year ago.
Sydney Carton.
It had seemed like yesterday, an hour ago, a second ago, Charles Darnay had seen him off by himself, quiet and still, trying to break out of his drunk stupor that hung about him. The last time Charles Darnay had seen him, he was a sober man. A very strong, calm, sober man. Charles Darnay had not given Sydney a thought the whole time he was in that prision...that terriable place where man, women, and children were killed. Now, since Sydney had gotten his freedom his mind throught nothing more than Sydney Carton.
Sydney Carton looked at him in the mirror. Sydney Carton watched him eat. Sydney Carton was there when He washed up. Sydeny Carton was there when He slept. Sydney Carton was there when he woke. Sydney Carton was everywhere.
Charles tried to tell them that Sydney was still waiting, waiting at the Guillotine, waiting to die for Charles. In his mind Charles Darnay saw his conterpart's face twist with fear, his shaking hands grab at his chest, eyes cast upwards looking for the heavens that had turned on him. His bright shining eyes darted, and shone with tears, but he would march to gullitone to recieve the death he had traded out with Charles.
Lucie, Little Lucie, Mr. Lorry, Mrs. Pross, and Dr. Manette would stare at the man who could not do anything more than sit in the garden. Maybe walk slowly alongside them outside in the garden, nodding his head as they talked. They listened to him when Charles Darnay would say, "I haven't seen Sydney-where is Sydney? I thought maybe he would stop by. I'd like to see how Mr. Carton is doing. Have you heard of Sydeny? Have you?" It was more than once than the ones that loved and cared for Charles would sob, "Dear Sydney is dead, oh good hearted, wonderful, noble, dead Sydney!"
It was now exactly a year later after Sydney Carton, and the deceased man, that man was standing in front of Charles Darnay. Sydney Carton leaned against the hearth and was looking at a portrait of himself. Charles Darnay had gone through many, many, many people to get it. "What happened to the one with You, Lucie, and your daughter and dead little boy? Charles, my face is not more important than your dead little boy's." Sydney looked at him, and Charles looked at the only physical differnce between them.
A split eyebrow.
Sydney Carton's left eyebrow was slpit right down the middle. "Carton...is that you?" Sydney came to Charles and sat down in the chair across from him. Charles Darnay looked at the man, he'd never seen Sydney look so. Sydney Carton had this peaceful look on his face, this look of pure happiness that seemed so out or reach for Charles Darnay. He was dressed finely and his hair brushed, abnd tied back. A halo of golden light seemed to be hovering about his head, lightly clinging to his hair.
Sydney looked at him, and whispered, "Why do you weep so?" Charles touched his face, and found it wet. "Why Sydney?" Sydney leaned forward pity in his eyes for this man that looked at him with such guilt, and sorrow. "To keep a promise to your love." Sydney looked at him, "And becuase I've hoped, that we minght have been what you would call friends." Charles Darnay let out a loud sob, and fell to his knees taking Sydney's ghostly hands, "We would be the best of friends! If you would wake from you eternal sleep, if we could fix time, you would be my most tresured, and best of friend!"
The spector's eyes shone brighter than ever, and he rose pulling Charles to his feet. His arms wrapped around the frail Charles Darnay, and Sydney Carton held him with such strength that Charles felt stonger than he'd ever felt. Charles weapt against Sydney's chest the man comforting him, and whispering, "I died for you and your family...for my love for Lucie, and little Lucie. For Mr. Lorry, that father I never had. For Mrs. Pross, who would never admit to caring for anyone but Lucie. For Dr. Manette, who needed you to be by his daughter's side, for he loved you so much. And for you my dear, dear friend, I did this for you."
Charles stilled after a long while of sobbing, and Sydney told him, "You have to move on, have to go on Charles. Thank you for caring so much for my sacrifice, thank you for it all. But now you have to go on, live with your wife, your daughter...your family! My sacrifce will be nothing if you let this go on. I'm dead. It's over, what's done is done. I'm gone. Now you have to live." Sydney held Charles for a little longer, and then set him on the ground gently. Charles, a mere child looked up at Sydney, a man starring down at someone young. Sydeney turned to leave and asked softly, "Will you kiss Lucie, and your child for me? Hug and kiss everyone for me?"
"I'll do it...I swear." Sydney nodded, and smiled at him. "Take care me dear friend." Charles nodded, tears dripping down his cheeks, "Take care my friend...take care Sydney." When Sydney was gone, Charles fell sobbing to the floor, and that was how Lucie found him. He still cried when she screamed for Mr. Lorry and Dr. Manette to help her. And he cried as he fell asleep. But those were the last tears he would ever shed again.
Years later he would have a son, and name him after the man that gave his life. When his children grew, they would have children who would hear of Sydney Carton. Their friend's would know of Sydney Carton's sacrifice. And the son of Charles Darnay, given the name Sydeny Carton, would wear his name with pride, knowing what it meant. When Lucie was dead and gone, and Charles waiting, he would be remembering his first encounter with Sydney Carton, and his last. And when the time finally came for him to breathe his last breath, he would wake up in a world of white, and find Sydney Carton smiling at him, and offering a hand.
A hand to join him away from the guillotine.
