coppelganger | ic contact; MoM

[He calls her around 6:00 PM, after he's gotten back from De Chima and checked in on some patients. His voice is quiet and hesitant.]

Hey. Um, I'm back in town. If you still want to talk.

[ She resists the urge to ask him what he was doing, why he was gone for four days. It's exactly the kind of thing she herself would have done if their positions were reversed. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I do. You can come over whenever. I'll be here.

[Not much, he would have lied. Because he's already too vulnerable where Sarah is concerned. He doesn't want to tell her that he couldn't spend Christmas alone.]

Okay.

[And he just hangs up. About half an hour later, there's a knock on her door.

He's gotten his hair cut a little shorter, and his button-down shirt is neat and tidy, but there are bags under his eyes.]

Hey. Um, Merry Christmas. Belatedly.

[ Sarah comes to the door wearing a black tank top and jeans, hands in her pockets, looking about as tired as he does. She does manage a tiny smile when she sees him, but it's only there for a second, then gone again. She feels too sick with regret to fake being casual tonight. ]

You too. Come in. I'll get you a drink.

Oh, I don't need anything.

[He shuffles in a bit awkwardly, looking lost. This place was so familiar to him just a couple of weeks ago, but now he feels like an intruder.]

[ Sarah walks into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of bourbon off the counter. She pours herself a glass on the rocks without looking at him, mostly because she's not sure what to say, how to start this conversation that she knows has to happen. ]

Well, the bottle's here if you change your mind.

[ With that, she turns around, taking a seat at the kitchen table. The living room seems too casual for this, somehow, and her bedroom? Not a chance. ]

[He sits down across from her, perched on the edge of his seat like he's trying not to disturb anything. That bottle of bourbon is starting to look more and more attractive, but he doesn't want to risk it. He needs to stay sober for this.]

... So.

So.

[ She drums her fingers against the glass, takes a nervous sip, goes back to drumming, then forcibly puts both hands in her lap. ]

I'm sorry... about what happened. I didn't mean—

[ No, that's not right. She wasn't being truthful, but she had meant to end things, to hurt George sooner rather than later. It's only because she's a selfish person, has always been a selfish person, that they're even having this conversation now. ]

I thought if I broke things off, it'd be better for you in the end.

[He narrows his eyes at her a little, trying to understand.]

Why? What is it you think you're protecting me from?

[ She sucks in a breath, not knowing how to say it. ]

I'm—

[ God, she can feel her eyes starting to burn. Her voice is cracking, almost childlike. ]

Do you remember when we went to dinner and you asked me if I was from some kind of sci-fi universe?

Yeah, I remember.

[It's gentle - as soon as he sees the signs of distress on her face and in her eyes, he backs off a little. Okay, clearly there's a little more to this than he was expecting.]

... I'm a clone.

[ There. She can barely look him in the eye, but it's out. It's done. Finally. ]

[He blinks for a moment, expressionless. A clone. He's... actually pretty surprised, since he was expecting something much worse, like a serial killer or an intergalactic warlord. But a clone? There's got to be more to it, if she was that worried about it.

A few months ago, before he died and came to Florida, he might have freaked out. And somewhere in the back of his brain, behind everything else he's feeling about her, a small part of him will probably have to take a moment to come to terms with this later. But for the moment, he just gives the slightest nod.]

... Okay.

[Okay, and?]

And this affects us because...?

It affects us because I don't know what's going to happen, George. And I'm tired. I'm so tired of running and fighting and—shite, I just... I want to be with you and just be normal. You're so good and I've never had anyone like that, someone who's just good. But I don't know what will happen and I'm scared of what might.

[ She can feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes again, making her vision blurry, but she can't stop it now. Part of her is so relieved that he doesn't care, doesn't hate her, but an even bigger part of her is filled with self-loathing because once again, she's dragging some innocent person into her shitstorm of a life, and has anything good ever come of that? She doesn't think so. ]

[And with those tears in her eyes, the resentment he'd been harboring since their fight just breaks, and he reaches his hands across the table, automatically grabbing for hers even though they're out of reach.]

Sarah...

[He wants to hold her and tell her that everything will be okay. That's what he's good at, but he knows he's out of his depth with this. Because he doesn't know what's going to happen either, or even what she means by that. He has no idea what to expect from any sort of future with her, if they stay here long enough to have one. But he wants her to know that he's here for it, whatever it is. He needs her to understand that.]

That's what hope's for. And maybe you don't think you're allowed any - maybe things are just that shitty back home - but that's why I'm here. Things can be good. They were, for us, for a couple of months, and when you find something good you just run with it until the other crap catches up. And I know I'm nothing compared to the other guys you probably go for, and I can't even throw a punch, but I care about you. I care about you so much it hurts sometimes, and I think I'd do anything to make sure you were safe. Just forget about keeping me safe. You being happy is way more important than that. And if we make each other happy, then we should just...

[He realizes his voice has gotten a bit louder than he intended, and his words finally just catch in his throat. He's still confused about everything, but there it is. His feelings for her, all laid out between them.]

[ She nods, unable to speak, and places one shaky hand in his. She reaches up with her other hand and wipes at her eyes. After several deep breaths, she manages to say something. ]

I'm not... a good person, George, okay? I'm trying... but I need you to know that.

[ Otherwise she might as well be lying to him still. ]

[He shakes his head. Yeah, he knows she's probably done a lot of stuff he wouldn't want to know about, but he's not going to sit here and listen to her self-loathing laundry list. That's not what matters here and now.]

It's not black and white. You're always saying that I'm so good? All I see what I look at myself is the stupid screw-up who cheated on his wife and threw himself in front of a goddamn bus. I look at you and I see this brave, strong, beautiful woman who loves her family and wants to be better. That's all that matters.

Edited 2015-12-29 02:06 (UTC)

[ As soon as he says "threw himself in front of a goddamn bus," she gasps and puts a hand over her mouth, completely blindsided. All she can think about is Beth, and the train, and what she did afterward, and how George looked so sick when she mentioned Kira getting hit by that car, and— ]

George, oh my god. You didn't.

[Didn't wh- oh. Well. Serves him right for bringing that up in a relationship talk.]

I didn't plan to. I was upset, and I'd been drinking.

[Why else would he ever cheat on his wife?]

Edited 2015-12-29 02:24 (UTC)

[ Oh my god oh my god oh my god. ]

I don't know what to say.

You don't have to say anything. [He gets it, really, from how horrified she looks.] ... I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner.

[And what surprise is it, really? If she thought he was such a good guy, of course she's going to be disappointed to find out he treated another woman so badly.]

I swear, though, it was a one-time thing. I'd never cheat on you.

[ For several seconds, she can only stare at him, not sure whether to laugh or yell at him. How could he even think that was what she meant? ]

I'm not talking about your wife, I'm talking about you throwing yourself in front of a bloody bus, you tit! Why would you—?

... Oh.

[Funny how cutting that off before the "for a stranger" part really changes the meaning.]

Um. There was- It was gonna hit somebody. So I tried to...

[Awkward.]

I'm sort of realizing now that the whole part about the bus just... didn't come out right.

You didn't kill yourself?

[ She puts her face in her hands, letting out a huge sigh of relief. ]

Jesus...

No! No, it wasn't- God, Sarah, I'm...

[If her hands weren't on her face - which they are due to his stupidity - he'd be reaching for them.]

I didn't kill myself. I was just... I was stupid, and slow, and I...

[He shakes his head, his eyes wide with sadness.]

And this isn't about me, it's about you.

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