#it's like being forcefully gifted a particularly difficult pet. i guess. if you want to think of it that way

[witheredgardenparty]

Drowning myself a bit in the concept of a yandere who prides himself on being the boogeyman of underground circles but as soon as he is face-to-face with his darling, dissolves into a bumbling mess of graceless stammering and cumbersome limbs. A tripping-over-air, tongue-tied loser who has lost all sense of cool.

In the witching hours, he is a deadly force with unyielding claws and nimble words. The daylight finds him kneeling at the alter of your every spoken phrase.

What a blessing that darling is gracious to this poor helpless sap. Such a "harmless", if occasionally clumsy fellow. And -- oh! You dropped all of your papers! Here, let me help! No, really, it's no problem. (Did he just sniff my hair? No, I must have imagined that... right?)

To the other monsters that roam the shadows, he is a heartless, shapeless void of terror. To speak the dread name is to summon him and whatever fate the wheel so spins that day.

To you, he is a perfect gentleman. A, perhaps slightly, awkward acquaintance who could never hurt a fly. Literally. You think he might be a little afraid of bugs?

You cannot help but notice things have been changing since your new friend has shown up, though. New movements in the neighborhood. Not bad necessarily, but different.

That asshole next door has definitely been treating you nicer. Suspiciously nicer. And these numbers on your bills... have they gone down? You will have to call the bank to ask about it. You are pretty sure you owe more than this.

As soon as you figure out what happened to your favorite sweater...

[primatechnosynthpop]

A Rose Shall Bloom (And Then Shall Fade)- part 4

Once, at a holiday party, Claire and a few of her friends sat around the kitchen table, drinking and talking amongst themselves. Claire decided to tell them some entertaining stories about difficult customers she’d had at work. Her friends, most of whom no longer worked themselves, nodded along and laughed as she recounted a story of one woman who had come in two minutes after closing time and demanded to be served.

“And then she said, ‘but I have a reservation!’” Claire imitated the loud, squawking voice of the customer. “Turns out she had a table reserved for that night… for three hours earlier! So I asked why she hadn’t shown up then, and she said her husband had been out with her car all day.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Hiro jumped in. “Yesterday, Ando and I got a call from a man who wanted us to mow his lawn for him. Can you believe that?”

“We told him no, of course,” Ando added.

“Although,” Hiro sighed, “that was the only call we got all day. Our business just isn’t in demand much anymore.”

“Well, maybe you guys should retire,” Peter suggested. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

Claire involuntarily flinched. It was true–all her friends were now at or above the average retirement age. Hiro, though… it was so odd to think that time affected even him. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to control time? Why did it have to retain jurisdiction over him? As immature as it was, she didn’t want her friends to acknowledge that they were getting older. If everybody could just pretend that everything was staying the same, that they would all always be there, then maybe it would be enough to convince her, even for a moment, that none of them would ever leave her life.

“Maybe you could wait until Satoshi is grown up and let him take over the business,” she suggested. “How old is he now, anyway?”

“He just turned nine,” Ando informed her with a proud smile. “You should see how much he takes after his mother.”

“Oh, he takes after Kimiko?”

Ando nodded. “So I don’t think he’ll want to take over the Dial-a-Hero business even once he is old enough–which won’t be for quite a long time.”

“It’s unfortunate, but once we retire, our little business will have to come to an end,” Hiro agreed.

“Well, that doesn’t have to happen just yet,” Claire said, doing her best to present it as a casual remark and not a desperate plea for everyone to stop getting so damn old and, god, I’m going to end up alone one day, and– “You guys can keep working as long as you like.”

Peter shot Claire a raised-eyebrow look from across the table. No doubt he remembered their conversation from a few months ago. They hadn’t spoken much since then, and while Claire hoped he had reconsidered her proposal, she got the feeling he hadn’t. However, he said nothing and simply took  another sip of his glass of wine.

“I don’t know, retirement is pretty rewarding,” Matt put in. “It gives me more time to spend with Janice.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t have to happen yet,” Claire repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “Nobody here is that old! You’ve all got plenty of your lives left ahead of you!”

A couple seats over from her, Tracy raised an eyebrow. She was still very poised and dignified even now that she was growing older. She almost reminded Claire of a light-haired version of Angela.

“I appreciate the compliment, Claire, but we’re all over the hill now, so to speak,” she said. “None of us are getting any younger. And for someone who has a dangerous job like Hiro and Ando do…”

“…No, I’m with Claire,” Hiro decided. “I want to keep saving people for as long as possible.”

“Really?” Ando asked, looking a bit concerned. Hiro nodded; Ando sighed and squeezed Hiro’s hand. “Well, if you’re going to keep working, I guess I can’t let you do it alone.”

Claire smiled to herself as she took a sip of her tonic. It fizzled on her tongue, providing her with a brief spark of enjoyment even though the alcohol did nothing to her. She couldn’t stop her friends from getting older, but just keeping things how they were for as long as she could was a small victory.

-

Unfortunately, nothing ever stayed as it was for long. It was a lesson she had learned time and time again, and would long continue to do so, but it still stung every time she was forced to relearn it.

One spring, during a particularly cold and rainy spell, Claire got a call from Sandra’s nursing home telling her that Sandra had fallen ill. Claire held out hope for a while that her mother would recover, but as days turned to weeks and then to months, she realized that it wasn’t going to happen. Sandra was transferred to a hospital, where she remained for several long, difficult months before she eventually succumbed to her sickness. The time leading up to her death was extremely hard on Claire, especially since Lyle was out of town for the whole ordeal. Once she called his number intending to call him out for not being there to support her, but when he didn’t pick up, she hung up the phone without leaving a message. She couldn’t blame her brother for avoiding her. She wished she could have avoided being there too, gradually watching her mother’s health dwindle, but unlike Lyle, she had no excuse.

Claire was there at her mother’s deathbed, and held her hand as Sandra closed her eyes one last time. She had long wondered if it was better or worse to be there to see it when someone she loved died, and now that it finally happened, she still wasn’t sure. She didn’t think she ever would be.

Now that both her parents were gone, Claire clung even more desperately to those in her life who remained. She even grew more attached to her boss at work. He jokingly asked if she was angling for a promotion when she brought him a tray of cookies she’d baked for his birthday. She put on a smile and said that it wasn’t her intention, but she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to getting promoted. Her boss chuckled and said, “how about a raise instead?” She was pleasantly surprised to discover that he wasn’t joking. But a 3% raise, while she was grateful for it, didn’t solve her problems.

When she told her coworkers that her mother had died, they reacted with varying degrees of shock and sympathy. “What happened to her?” asked a young woman who must have been about the age Claire appeared to be.

“It was natural causes,” Claire said. “She just got sick, and then…”

She trailed off, shrugging, as she turned her attention to a container of plastic straws. She distracted herself by fidgeting with the straws while the other workers pestered her with questions. Someone asked how her dad was holding up, and she considered lying and making something up, but she decided to be honest and say that he was dead too. This garnered a new wave of sympathetic murmurs.

Claire appreciated that her coworkers cared for her struggle, but they didn’t understand what the problem really was. Most of them didn’t know how old she really was, so to them, the mere fact that her parents were dead was a tragedy in and of itself to them. While she was of course sad about losing them, that wasn’t really the tragedy of it all. Noah and Sandra had lived long, happy lives, and nobody could live forever–except for Claire. She could, and most likely would, live forever. That meant that she would never be reunited with her loved ones, whether that be in an afterlife or another life or simply a boundless void.

(Claire wasn’t sure if she considered herself religious. Growing up in Texas, she had certainly had Christianity forced upon her for most of her early life, but it was hard to decide for herself what to believe, if anything. She wanted there to be an afterlife, though; it was the only thought that provided her any real consolation when she thought of all the people she would outlive.)

Summer came in, bringing leaves to the trees and grass to the earth. It was good while it lasted, but come fall, it all faded away again. Everything always changed. Everything always ended, from seasons to lives. But Claire stayed the same as she’d always been, and always would be. Oddly enough, people at work never seemed to notice that she didn’t age. Then again, few people kept working at the restaurant long enough to catch on. Her boss was growing older too, and had started talking about handing the business down to her one day soon. Claire had no idea what constituted “soon” in this case. The length of time was such a relative thing.

-

More time went by. Children grew up, and adults edged ever closer to the eventual but inevitable end of their lives. Eventually Claire’s manager retired and she took over as manager at the restaurant. Initially she thought it was insane for her to be a business owner, but when she thought it over, she realized that she was perfectly qualified. She had decades of experience, after all; despite her appearance, she was nearly sixty years old now.

Having so much responsibility was thrilling, but before long, people stopped coming to the restaurant. Nobody trusted someone who looked like a college student to run a business. As profits dwindled, Claire scrambled for a solution. She lowered prices, introduced new menu items, and offered more specials. It took a while, but eventually business started to pick up again. The restaurant–her restaurant now–wouldn’t be closing its doors anytime soon. As a business owner, Claire did her best to pay her workers fairly. It meant she made less money overall than the previous owner, but she didn’t need that much money anyway. She had a good life, and without any pets or children to supply for, Claire found that she was making more money than she needed. She began donating more often to charities, and got in the habit of spending more money on gifts for people. She figured that if she was going to be alive forever, it would be best to at least make a positive impact on the world.

During the weeks leading up to Claire and Gretchen’s thirtieth anniversary, Claire pestered her wife with questions about what she wanted to do. As long as it was nothing too over-the-top, Claire could probably afford it, and she really wanted to make the occasion as special as possible for the both of them. However, Gretchen always said the same thing: thay she didn’t care what they did, as long as they got to spend the day together. In the end, they ended up staying at home that day. Claire took the day off from work, and they spent most of the afternoon snuggled up in bed together, reminiscing about the old days.

“Remember how I found out about your power?” Gretchen asked, absentmindedly fiddling with a lock of Claire’s hair. “When I looked out the window and saw you sitting there putting yourself back together, I knew I was in love with you.”

Claire wrinkled her nose, recalling the mortification she had felt under her then-roommate’s incredulous stare. “Really? That’s what made you fall for me?”

“I mean, I had it pretty bad for you before that,” Gretchen said with a laugh. “But it was at that moment when I thought to myself, ‘I want that woman to be my wife one day’.”

“Well, Gretch,” Claire said, squeezing her wife’s hand under the blanket, “I guess your wish came true.”

They both smiled, looking into each other’s eyes, and for a moment it was like no time at all had passed since that day. Then Gretchen wiped sweat from her brow and muttered, “Can we get out from under this blanket? I think I’m having a hot flash”, and the illusion of timelessness vanished quicker than Claire could smile and say, “Oh, yeah, that’s fine”.

So much time passed by, and Claire did her best to appreciate all of it as best she could, but it was so hard to enjoy life when she was faced with constant reminders of everybody getting older. With people her own age or older it was one thing, but even people younger than her looked noticeably older than her now. Lyle, Molly, and Micah were all middle-aged themselves now, and Matt Jr. was in his late thirties. One day he booked a reservation at the restaurant for himself and a woman who Claire was shocked to discover was his wife. Even Natalie Petrelli was a grown woman in her late twenties now, and Satoshi Masahashi was currently in his final year of college. And then all those people just kept getting older, and more mature, a second generation who Claire would outlive as surely as the first.

Claire came to hate calendars. She didn’t want to think about the passage of time. Instead, she covered her walls with framed photos of times she wanted to remember. Before long, her walls became cluttered with memories. She wondered what she would do when she ran out of room.

-

One Sunday evening, after a long day of errands, Claire flopped onto the living room sofa, exhausted. All day, people had been mistaking Gretchen for her mother. A couple of people had even thought she was her grandmother. That was a new one as far as Claire could remember, and she absolutely hated it. She especially hated the fact that the people who’d jumped to that conclusion had been completely justified in doing so. There was so much gray in Gretchen’s hair now, and she had so many wrinkles, and recently she was starting to complain about arthritis. The worst part was that Claire had nobody to turn to for comfort. When Gretchen herself tried to offer consolation, it just meant that Claire had to look into her wife’s eyes and see a sixty-four year old woman looking back at her. That only made things worse.

Unfortunately, Gretchen was persistent in her misguided attempts to help. She sat down on the arm of the sofa and started running her fingers through Claire’s hair, humming a sappy song under her breath. Claire didn’t bother telling Gretchen to go away. If she didn’t have to look up at her, then she could just pretend that her wife looked the same as always. Besides, even if it only made her feel worse, she still appreciated the effort. She didn’t want to punish Gretchen for loving her.

Later, when they were in bed together that night, Claire scrolled through her phone’s photo gallery. Some of the pictures there were decades old now. She was running out of storage again, meaning that soon she would have to delete some photos on order to make room for more. But she’d already gone through this process so many times that all the photos she had saved to her phone now were ones she valued. How could she choose between deleting a photo of her with the Petrellis and one of her adoptive family? She just wanted to keep them both forever, and the same went for all the other photos she had saved.

“You know, honey,” Gretchen remarked quietly as she watched over Claire’s shoulder, “I think maybe you should make some new friends.”

“What?” Claire screwed up her face, unsure of how to react to the puzzling comment. “I have plenty of friends.”

“I know, I know,” Gretchen sighed. “But… you’ve said it yourself, Claire, countless times. The people you’re friends with now aren’t going to be here forever. When they’re gone–when I’m gone–I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Claire stiffened. “Don’t talk about that.”

“Well, why not? You talk about it to me all the time,” Gretchen pointed out. “I don’t want to die any more than anybody else, but we’re all going to some day, and I don’t want you be left alone when that happens!”

Claire could hardly believe what her wife was saying. Putting her phone down on the headboard, she sat up and turned to glare at Gretchen.

“So you just want me to replace people?” she said. “Like getting a new dog to replace an old one? Is that what you want me to do for you–for everyone?”

“Well, no…”

“I can’t just replace people, Gretch! I can’t do that!”

“You don’t have to replace anyone,” Gretchen told her. “But you can’t just spend the rest of your life wallowing in self-pity, either, especially not if your life is going to last forever. An eternity alone? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. And, Claire…” She gulped, placing a tender hand on Claire’s shoulder. Claire realized that there were tears forming in Gretchen’s eyes. “Claire, you’re my wife. I love you. I need you to be happy.”

Claire tried to force a smile, but her face refused to cooperate. All she could think of was how, with every passing moment, she had less and less time left to spend with the people she cared about. Time had already run out for some of those people. Who would be next? What would she do after everyone was gone? She couldn’t go on living after that, she just couldn’t. For a few years, maybe–a decade or two, even–but not forever. And growing close to new people, knowing that the exact same thing was eventually going to happen to them… she didn’t see how that could possibly help her. More people to care about was just more people to eventually lose. It didn’t matter if she made friends with every person on the planet, because not one of them was going to be there forever.

“I’m not saying you should forget about me, or anyone,” Gretchen went on. “But memories can’t be all you have. You need to let new people into your life.”

Claire massaged her temples. She was so tired of this circular argument. Neither of them could really understand where the other was coming from, and she hated arguing with her wife. It was better to just put the issue to rest and call it a night.

“You know what? You’re right,” she said. “I’m going to try to meet some new people.”

Gretchen smiled and leaned forward to kiss Claire on the forehead. “Good choice.”

-

The morning after their discussion, Claire was woken up by a flashing sound followed by heavy breathing and gasps of pain. Claire’s eyes snapped open and she sat up to see Hiro standing in her bedroom, clutching a gaping wound in his side. With his free arm, he clutched a mangled body that Claire was horrified to recognize as Ando. As she watched, Hiro sunk to his knees, letting out a moan.

“Holy shit,” she whispered as she scrambled out of bed and to the drawer where she kept her syringe. “What happened?”

“W-we got a call… someone was being mugged,” Hiro told her, his face contorted in pain, while she jabbed the syringe into her arm and drew out a sample of her blood. “The mugger had superstrength. I tried to teleport us away, but my… my back went out, and…”

“Well, don’t worry. You’re going to be okay,” Claire said. She took Hiro’s arm and injected her blood into the first vein she could find. “You’ll both be fine.”

As the blood took effect, Hiro’s injury began to close up. He blinked gratefully at Claire while she drew another sample of her blood and prepared to administer it. Although Claire’s heart was hammering with anxiety, she tried to calm herself down. As she administered the second blood sample to Ando, she told herself that everything was going to be fine in a minute. She tried not to think that this was her fault. It didn’t matter that this wouldn’t have happened had she not talked them out of retiring a couple years earlier, because it was going to turn out fine either way. Hiro already didn’t have a scratch on him. It would be like nothing had even happened.

But something was wrong. Ando’s wounds weren’t healing up. Why wasn’t Claire’s blood working on him? As Hiro’s anxiously stroked his motionless friend’s thinning, graying hair, Claire noticed that there was a large, jagged rock jabbed into the back of Ando’s head. Shuddering, Claire yanked the rock out and held it up.

“How did this happen?” she asked Hiro.

Hiro shook his head, eyes wide with dismay. “I didn’t�� I don’t know.”

“Well, now that that’s out of his head, my blood should work,” Claire said. She wasn’t even sure how much she believed herself. A few seconds creeped by, and then a few more. Nothing happened. “M-maybe I can give him some more blood.”

She tried this, but once again, nothing happened. Hiro kept glancing up at Claire, then back down at Ando, and then back to Claire. There was an increasing volume of desperation in his eyes. Claire’s throat constricted as she took a shaky step back and shook her head. Her voice caught in her throat as she reached an awful conclusion.

“Hiro, there’s… there’s nothing I can do.”

“No,” Hiro whimpered, his arms curling tighter around his friend’s sickeningly contorted body. Scraggly gray hairs framed his weathered, tearstained face. He’d never looked more frail. “No, you have to save him…”

“Claire?” Gretchen, who up until that point had remained soundly asleep, sat up on bed and rubbed her eyes. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Claire cursed under her breath. She didn’t want her wife to see such an upsetting thing. Gretchen was so easily disturbed sometimes.

“Go back to bed, honey,” she called over her shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Gretchen blinked, stunned, at the scene before her. “What–?!”

“Just look away,” Claire told her urgently, rushing over to Gretchen and holding a protective hand over her eyes. “You don’t want to see this.”

Claire’s head swam with guilt. She should have just let them retire all those years ago, and they would be safe now, and this wouldn’t have happened. Ando was dead because of her selfishness. Hiro must have absolutely despised her now. She’d done this, it was her fault, one of her friends was dead and it was her own goddamn fault–

“Claire, what happened?” Gretchen demanded, dragging Claire’s hand away. “Is that…?”

“Gretchen, please,” Claire said, trying her best not to cry. She didn’t deserve the chance to cry for something that was her fault. “You don’t want to see it. Please.”

She heard the flashing sound again, and when she turned to look behind her, Hiro was gone.

He didn’t speak to her again for a long time.