1944. Berlin. "So...what made you join?" Silas asked Clarisse one night as they sat in their respective cells. Clarisse closed her eyes, she didn't want to do this. Not now. They'd been here six months already. No one was coming. She'd figured that out on her own. Opportunities to escape were rare because they kept changing locations. They were in Berlin, then sometimes in the woods, then who knew where. She had last seen the outside a month ago. The stale air here was getting to her. It was like being quarantined--except, they could not escape. The last two to try had been shot and then tortured. Clarisse had no idea what they'd done to them, but the stench of burnt flesh had filled the facility for about a week and their wails of agony were still in her head. Others, when they denied the soldiers what they wanted, were subject to other methods of torture. People whispered and Clarisse shut them out.
Now Silas wanted to know about this. Her eyes closed. She didn't...but yet, she began to tell him. She had not originally planned on it. On the contrary. She had wanted to stay home, in the lovely home she and Payne shared, where they were going to raise a family. "It's funny you should ask me that," she began hesitantly, the emerald of her eyes finding Silas easily in the dark. "I joined out of...desperation. A need to get away from my life."
Flashback: 1940.It is a terrible thing to want something so badly and to have it denied you.
Clarisse had been delighted when there had been stirring within her. Having felt it once, when she was still human, she knew exactly what it was. There was a glow about her and she didn’t even complain when she spent mornings with her head in the porcelain bowl of the toilet. She'd always wanted to be a mother. It might have been old fashioned of her, but she still wanted that above all things. Payne had been hesitant, promising he loved her all the same child or not, but once Clarisse had made her mind up, he was hard-pressed to deny her. Besides, the attempts had been passionate encounters and he wasn’t one to complain. Once the swell of her belly became visible, he too had grown excited. They’d even begun to set up a nursery and perhaps that was where they’d gone wrong. Some said it was bad luck to set up a nursery before the child was born.
Was it an omen?
The terrible moment came when she’d been sleeping. She'd awoken to the metallic scent of blood in the air and wetness between her thighs. Pain shot through her midsection and she wailed, clamping her thighs shut as if that would prevent the miscarriage. She wailed her lover's name, as though he could do something. He had been enjoying a glass of bourbon whilst listening to the radio for news of the war. But what could be done? Deep down, Clarisse knew that nothing could be done. Their child, made from love and determination, had not survived. She sensed the last beats of its heart and then...nothing. Payne barged into the room and his eyes met her own.
"Clarisse!" He exclaimed softly. "
Help me…" she pleaded, her hands covered in blood as she sat in the middle of their bed, staring hopelessly at the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he ministered to her for a moment and then left for a moment to call the midwife. She dealt with 'special' cases and once she arrived, she shooed him out of the room.
For two hours, he was left pacing in the hallway, each moment more agonizing than the last. Clarisse's moans and cries were loud at first, then there were whimpers and silence. When the door opened, the woman came out and shook her head before offering her condolences.
"I tried...but it was no use. I'd suggest you never try again either. She's unable to carry to term."
The news was hard to swallow and he did not want to envision having to tell her that. Now wasn't the time. Instead, he nodded and Payne asked, "Could you tell what the sex was? Or was it too early still?"
"I believe it was a girl," the old woman replied. "Did you have a name that you wanted to be recorded down? That way a headstone can be prepared."
Payne considered for a moment before answering and offered her a handful of cash. Given that they'd met in 1793 at the execution of the Queen of France. "Antoinette Louise Queen." A tribute to both royals and to Clarisse's eldest sister, Antoinette, whom he had met once and whom he knew Risse adored, even some two centuries after her death.
Clarisse was once more settled on the bed, which had fresh sheets; the others had clearly been burned. Good riddance to it. Though usually pallid, she was as pale as marble and the sparkle in her green eyes was muted. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she let out a soft whimper. His arms encircled her as she wept, her small frame violently trembling against his until she fell asleep. "Sleep, my love," he whispered, stroking her hair and pressing kisses to her temple. Payne held her most of the night; at some point, she wriggled from his grasp.
That was how it remained for a week. When he went to hold her, she recoiled. And the moments she did look to him, he had been hurt by her actions and looked away. That week was a cruel one, each of them desperately needing one another but Clarisse was a victim to her own mind and she tried to push him away. She expected he'd leave and when he didn't, it frustrated her. She wanted him gone, but she wanted him to hold her. She was a mess. The more she stayed in the house, the more she felt tempted to burn the place down. She had to get out. As she listened to Winston Churchill on the radio, the answer became very clear.
"Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; "we shall never surrender."She would do as she had done in two wars prior. She would help. On the morning of the eighth day, Clarisse slowly rose, pulling on clothes before heading out for a walk. Payne was pleased to see her up and didn't press her to say where she was headed. Nor did he ask where she was going. Perhaps if he had, he might have talked sense into her.
"I...I need to talk to you," she began when she came into the house around an hour later. His crimson eyes met her own and she paused. She hated that he looked so hopeful at that moment because she knew this would hurt him. Yet, her pain was still so fresh that deep down, she didn't really care if she hurt him or anyone else. "They need nurses and so, I signed up."
"I'm sorry,
what?"Clarisse brushed her hair back and twisted her ring around her finger, finally sorting out her words. "Every time you look at me, I see pity. I see bitterness and disappointment. You don't look at me the same as before. I need you. But I need the you who isn't going to treat me like a fragile doll. I need to be away from here. I signed up. I won’t change my mind, please don’t ask me."
"You're the one seeing a fragile doll, Clarisse. The moment I look at you, you look away! Disgusted and you well up in tears again. Yes, I do feel remorse but you're not the only one who lost a child! I've told you time and time again that I don't blame you! I want to help you but you shut me out. And now you decide to join the war?!” For a moment he paused, his voice cracking slightly. “Do I have to lose you too, Risse?"
His words hit her like a truck. But she was wallowing in her emotions and she spat out her words, perhaps a touch cruelly. "You won't even touch me! You don't hold me. You don't see it, but you're treating me differently. The only disgust I feel is at myself! I wanted this so god damned much. And now all I feel is anger and hurt. I'm not fragile. I feel like a bomb and I need to explode and to let out this rage. I shut you out because I have lost myself. I had this image in my mind...and now I've lost it and I don't know who I am now. I'm broken, Payne. And I know you are too. I need to do something to help heal myself...and I find that helping others helps me."
"
I won't touch you? I treat you differently because you've shut me out so much that I can't treat you like I want to! I've tried to hold you, time and time again. Even at night, you move away from me, during the day you do as well! I get that you're broken, Clarisse, but you're not alone!
I am right here! You weren't the only one who wanted this! I get that you're angry, but don't lash it out in a war! They'll find you! They'll hunt you down and kill you if they don't use you as a lab rat first! Don't forget that I know how this kind of war works, baby. They bring out the worst in people.
They become the monsters that they see
us as!"
That he spoke of people coming after them brought out a perverse thought that perhaps she wanted to be caught. To die and no longer suffer. But she was greedy. She wanted to live and seeing him glaring at her in askance was painful too. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I just want to feel whole again. I want us to be us again. You hold everything together so much better...why is that? How? What in you doesn't allow you to break down like me? Do demons not cry? I am alone! I felt our child die--you didn't feel that. I could sense her heartbeat ceasing. I killed it somehow! I have to live with that!" She wailed, sinking to the floor, covering her face with her hands. "And you didn't have that old crone put her hand up inside you--" Clarisse shuddered at the thought of it, remembering the feel of the midwife's hand and the cold forceps, pulling out the small body of what was supposed to grow into their child. "They didn't get me last time. They won't this time either. Baby, please. Let me go. You deserve better. Someone not damaged and as f***ed up as me."
Kneeling down next to her, he pulled her into his arms. Holding her tightly and not allowing her to fight him off this time. She was small, wiry, and strong, but he was stronger. "Devils do cry. The reason I'm keeping it together is so that you don't have to. So that you can get all the pain and hurt out of your system, and continue to live on...so that you can go through every emotion in its purest form. Because you know that I will still be here, taking care of you. You didn't kill her. We knew the risks. We tried it anyway...and Clarisse, you know it's you I want. It's been you since day one."
Leaning against him, she wept openly and hard, her body shaking from the force of her tears. Part of her ached to push him away, but she stayed, bringing her arms around his neck. "You shouldn't have to be so strong," she whispered. "I did. My body... We felt them moving a week ago...and now they're gone. Payne, I just want to die. I don't want to feel this anger. I don't want to feel anything."
"The anger is what you need to feel. It's your pain. It's grief. You need to mourn, Risse. Wanting to feel nothing is not the way to go. Dying is not the way to go. We remember her by living. It's a painful thing to do. But it will get easier in time. I'm not losing you. If you want to fight in the war, you better use your skillset as a nurse--and only that. Otherwise, you are not going. I will join you. Protect you in any way that I can as well. If you're going...we're both going. We might be apart. But you know that I've got you."
"It was a girl?" She asked, her voice soft, registering what he'd said.
."Yes, my love. I gave her a name, so we will visit her and you'll see her headstone."
"What did you name her?"
"Antoinette Louise. After the Queen and after your sister. And Louise for the King. I thought you would like that. But..focus. Did you hear me? Unless you're using your nursing skills, I forbid you to go. But as I said...I'll be going too."
"You...no. Baby, no. I don't want you to go." She shook her head slowly, meeting his eyes, "Payne, no. You'll go into battle. I know you. How is that fair? I do nursing and you fight? N-no." She knew from his tone that he wouldn't budge. There were some battles that she would never win. Panic filled her as she looked at him. "What if you get sent somewhere else? They won't let me come with you. You have to write to me. Everyday. No excuses. And I'll write to you. But...what if they go after you?"
"I can apply for the protection of the hospitals so that I would never be too far away from you. Of course, I will write, you've got my word, Kitten, and if they go after me, they'll have another thing coming. You know as well as me that I am close to unstoppable if they try to come to me. I'll be close, always."
"You're too good to me," she murmured, drawing his face down to her own, softly brushing her lips against his for the first time in a week. "They should never try to get you. You'd end the entire war in an hour," she quipped, offering a gentle smile before resting against him again. "I'll do nursing. That's all. I promise."
"Ha! Thirty minutes if they really get me going," He grinned, kissing her lips lovingly when she brushed them against his own, holding her closely into his arms. "And I promise that I will not leave the country. I will not go into a full-on battle. I will be close to you."
"Mm. Might like to see that," she smiled up at him, sighing softly as he kissed her, realising just how much she had missed his touch. "I'm sorry, my love, for neglecting you and how you feel," she apologized. "I still need to work on myself though. I'm not...entirely right. But as you'll be with me...I think I'll be okay."
As he held her, cradling her close, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. It was too late for her to go back on her word, she had already signed up to go. Leaning into him, she closed her eyes, weeping anew. Weeping for their child, for the broken parts of themselves, for many reasons. And true to his word, Payne let her rant and rave, weep and question God and even his own father, Lucifer. He refused to let go of her and even when she tried to squirm away, he still held firm. She knew his words were meant to make her feel better. She also knew that where they sent people, they had no say. But she wanted to believe and so, she did. Perhaps foolishly. But still, he wouldn't leave her and she finally wept herself to sleep. She didn't even feel him lift her up and carry her into their room, nor did she feel him slide her shoes off of her feet. The only thing she felt was his lips against her temple when she shifted slightly during the middle of the night.
A week later.
"I'm going to be an hour away. That isn't so far," he promised her. "I'll post you a letter tonight, I promise." They were at a train station and he was catching a ride along with other new recruits. They had to go over some basic training. Something that made her laugh, considering how old they both were. Still, she was blinded by her tears and he drew her close. "Kitten," he murmured sweetly to her, using her nickname. "We'll be back together before you know it. Remember your promise to me."
"Remember yours."
"I'll write to you every day. I just said I'll write to you tonight." He chided her playfully, before taking out a small box. "It's not a ring, calm down," he chuckled, noticing the widening of her eyes. Holding it up, it was a gold necklace, with a locket at the end. "Call me self-centered, but I thought you'd like having me with you," he joked before putting it on for her. "I even went old fashioned, putting a lock of hair in there," he added with a wide grin, showing her where he'd cut it from. Laughing as she rolled her eyes, she thanked him by giving him a kiss. As he hugged her again, she held tight, tears rolling down her cheeks again. They remained together, with him whispering in her ear until the conductor yelled,
'Allllll Aboard!' and the whistle permeated the ears of all close by.
"Risse, don't send me off with the memory of you crying," Payne called as the train began to slowly move. Clarisse wiped at her eyes and sniffed, running along the side. He leaned down, holding onto the guardrail with one arm and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her up. "You'd better come home," she murmured against his lips. She wasn't convinced that he'd only be gone two weeks. "I will," he promised, peppering her nose with kisses before deeply kissing her once again, without a care for who saw before setting her back down on the platform. "Two weeks!" He promised, waving to her until she couldn't see him any longer. Raising her hand, she blew him a last kiss.
It was a promise he couldn't keep.
