A/N: Hold onto your hats, folks! Things are about to get dark and twisty...
Paris Life — Part VII
Paris, France, 2291.150, 0835 hours. He'd barely had time to unpack and settle in when another picture arrived from his stalker. It was an image of him and Marie dancing cheek-to-cheek on the balcony in San Francisco. On the back she'd written "Love me like this one day, please?" Se'tak seethed. Another intimate moment ruined. How had he not known she was there? How was she able to get so close and yet constantly escape his notice?
He dutifully contacted Lieutenant Bonhomme but he was out of the country on personal leave. A colleague came by to collect the image and make a report. By this time Se'tak didn't hold out much hope that she'd ever be caught. Worse still he was left wondering whether or not to tell Marie that their privacy had been breached once again.
When he went over to her place that night he had every intention of telling her but she was still so giddy from the trip he couldn't bear to bring her down. Weeks later he would come to regret this decision.
Paris, France, 2291.191, 1330 hours. It quickly became apparent to both of them after San Francisco that they couldn't bear to be apart any longer than they had to be; and while his dorm room was made available to him over the summer he spent nearly every single night at Marie's. Soon the place felt like theirs. Even Rorschach accepted him and the cat would affectionately wind himself around Se'tak's legs as soon as he walked in the door.
His summer job was working out well too. Through L'École he'd been able to find work as a translator at the Intergalactic Convention Center on the edge of downtown. His French was passable but his Standard, Swahili, and Vulkhansu were flawless and his services were in great demand. He was learning a lot too, especially about when to hold his tongue and how to turn a phrase; it took a special kind of person to turn "If your brains were phaser banks there wouldn't be enough power to blow your hat off*" into a (sort of) compliment.
When he wasn't working he and Marie would stroll through the ancient city gardens, stop at a café, head to the Farmer's Market, take in a gallery exhibition or a movie…all the couple-y activities he'd spent practically his entire adult life avoiding. It was a refreshing change of pace to be sure.
However, in the midst of his new found domestic bliss there was still the matter of his stalker. She wasn't letting up; if anything she was getting creepier.
Se'tak found that this nameless, faceless woman had insinuated herself into almost every facet of his life. She delivered handwritten messages to him at work which, by the time a courier crossed his path, had passed through so many hands there was no telling where it originated from thereby keeping her anonymity intact. She'd also taken to posting fliers at his bus stop. The images and phrases were innocuous enough but to him they might as well have been lethal. Once she left him a note on a napkin at a café he decided to visit on a whim for a cup of coffee. "You made me love you/ I didn't want to do it/ I didn't want to do it…or maybe I did?"
That one gave him chills.
There were 2 weeks where he thought he was free. His stalker seemed to have up and vanished. For the first 9 days 'Tak didn't believe it; he thought it was another of her tricks, that she was trying to lull him into a false sense of complacency. However, by Day 13 he started to breathe a sigh of relief that her infatuation with him was all over.
Was he ever wrong.
Day 16 found a note waiting for him at his public work station. "Did you miss me?" it read. His stalker closed with a little red heart drawn in red lipstick. Se'tak nearly flipped his desk.
He reported each and every episode of contact to Lieutenant Bonhomme but despite the man's diligence (and his team's best efforts) they were still no closer to identifying her than they'd been back in April. The fact that his stalker kept getting so close to him without his ever knowing it strained his nerves to the breaking point. It was Marie and Marie alone that helped keep him from tipping over the edge—that and the fact that his stalker had the decency to keep away from the apartment.
On days off when he couldn't bring himself to step out and face his stalker's all-seeing eye he and Marie would hole up in their little sanctuary nestled in each other's arms. It was just the respite he needed before bracing for another round of taunts.
2356 Gatlin Street, Paris, France, 2291.195, 1942 hours. There was something…different…about Marie lately and Se'tak couldn't quite put his finger on what. As he washed the dishes that night he watched out of the corner of his eye as she pulled a pint of Rocky Road ice cream out of the freezer. Next she grabbed a spoon, then stared at the cupboard for a minute before pulling out a bag of potato chips and, just when he thought things couldn't get any weirder, she crushed a handful of chips in her hand and sprinkled them all over the ice cream.
They'd just had a huge dinner—leftovers of Uncle Callan's endive gratin—and even he was stuffed. How and why she thought chips and ice cream were a good idea at this hour left him baffled.
"Mon cher?"
She pulled the spoon out of her mouth and swallowed. "Oui?"
"Is everything…alright?" he hesitantly asked.
"I do not understand." Her eyes trailed his as he looked from the ice cream, to the open bag of chips on the counter, and back again. "Oh, that. I just needed something sweet and…comment dites-vous*…salé?"
"Salty?"
"Oui, salty." She smiled and plunged the spoon back into the container for another bite.
Se'tak smirked and shook his head as he put the last dish away. "Ok then…"
2356 Gatlin Street, Paris, France, 2291.196, 1822 hours. It'd been 3 days since his stalker last made contact and as Se'tak walked home from the bus stop he felt tense and poised as a cat. No notes at work, no notes at the bus stop, the grocery store, the pharmacy…as he rounded the corner near his building he wondered if he was in the clear for the day…
…and then he saw the flashing blue lights and his heart dropped.
A split second later he was pushing through the throng of gawkers, guiltily hoping that the police cars and ambulance were there for one of their neighbors and not for Marie. As he reached the front of the group a policeman held him at bay.
"What apartment?!" he cried, barely keeping his panic at bay. "Ce appartement?"
The officer looked at him queerly a moment before coolly replying, "Numéro 5."
His adrenaline surging, Se'tak forced his way past the officers on the ground and up the stairs 2 at a time until he reached their open front door. This time 3 hulking guards were waiting for him. "MON ANGE!" he screamed, straining against their grasp. "MON ANGE!"
After what felt like an age the inspector in charge stepped out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about, her expression grim. "Qui es-tu?*" she bluntly asked.
"I live here!" he shouted, still struggling. "I'm her boyfriend! I'm Marie's boyfriend!"
A neighbor from down the hall—Gabriel, who he later learned had called the police when he heard screaming—was ushered out of his own apartment and asked to identify him. When he did so with unequivocal conviction Se'tak was let go but still barred from his own quarters.
The inspector—who still had yet to identify herself—switched to Standard. "What do you know so far?"
"I don't know anything!" he cried, pacing the floor and tearing his hair all while trying to crane his neck to see inside. "I came home to find this..." Se'tak gestured helplessly out the window where the lights bathed the cobblestone street in ominous shades of blue.
The officer stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "There has been a break-in. Nothing appears to have been taken but there has been damage of another sort. Marie is inside…"
He tried to break away. "Let me see her…"
"…but she is in shock," the Inspector finished. "We think she needs medical attention but she has a knife and will not let anyone near her." She took a deep calming breath. "Do you think you can do as I say and try and reach her?"
Given a job instantly sobered him up. "Yes, absolutely, whatever you say."
Briefly she sized him up then gestured for her men to allow him inside. "This way then."
Slowly he followed the inspector through the front room. None of their effects appeared to have been disturbed but that didn't put him at ease. Looking to his left he saw that Marie had kicked off her sandals and left her blue scarf draped over the side of the sofa—signs of their normal life—but on his right he saw the police cordone off their bedroom door on that side. It wasn't until he neared the kitchen and saw yet another officer watching Marie that his apprehension grew.
Se'tak inhaled sharply as he took in the scene. His beloved was pacing wildly across the black and white diamond tiles of their kitchen, muttering incoherently under her breath. In her wake she left bloody footprints and there appeared to be a spreading stain on her dark pants.
And in her hand was a large carving knife from their butcher block, it's blade a shocking shade of crimson.
"Mon ange…?" She brandished the knife in his direction yet her blank gaze told him she was not in her right mind. As he tried to think how to reach her he noticed a pool of blood that seemed to have been dragged off the kitchen floor and into the second entrance to their bedroom. He began to fear what lay behind those closed doors.
"You need to be gentle," The Inspector whispered. "Gentle but firm."
Se'tak nodded then turned back to his distraught k'diwa. "Marie?" She made 2 futile jabs in his direction then resumed her pacing. He'd have to be more forceful and he hated himself for what was to come. "Marie!"
She stopped and stared at him for several seconds before he saw recognition dawn. Once she fully understood it was him she sank to the floor and curled up against the pantry door with her knees to her chest and the knife held fast in her white-knuckled grip.
"She came," Marie whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. Se'tak nodded. "She came and killed Rorschach." No sooner had Marie uttered this statement then she fainted and the knife fell limply to the floor. She'd barely lost consciousness when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out to the waiting ambulance.
Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.196, 2339 hours. As he kept vigil by Marie's bedside he began to learn details of what'd happened at their apartment. She'd returned home after work unable to find Rorschach; as she entered the kitchen she saw the blood trail leading into their bedroom where he lay dead on the floor, the large carving knife plunged in his side so violently his body was pinned there. On the lone vanity mirror and in the blood of their pet his stalker left a terrifying message.
"I COULD LOVE YOU SO MUCH BETTER THAN HER IF YOU LET ME!"
And the worst was yet to come.
In the midst of all this trauma one salient fact became clear; Marie had been pregnant. As she slowly discovered the appalling breach of their home she unwittingly lost the baby.
He would've been a sa-mekh. He couldn't even process that news right now.
Se'tak's horror, guilt, and shame knew no bounds. Not only had he put Marie in harm's way but he was unable to protect her when she needed him most. She suffered simply for loving him and he felt that suffering keenly.
There was no way he could ever make up for the grief his stalker caused but Se'tak was prepared to spend the rest of his life trying if Marie would only let him.
* "If your brains were dynamite there wouldn't be enough to blow your hat off." —Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
* comment dites-vous = French, how do you say
* "Qui es-tu?" = French, "Who are you?"