very_sharpe | (no subject)

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Thomas sighed and pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. It was getting a bit late and he hadn't realized how much time had slipped away. He looked over at Steve, waited for him to stop welding before he called over, "Why don't we call it an evening?"

It wasn't ridiculously late yet, but Thomas had no intention of staying in the workshop all night, either. He doubted Steve would want to either once he noticed the time. They'd made good progress; Steve cranked out several stock pieces while Thomas had been working on a commission.

It wasn't late, he supposed, but it was certainly past the time the shop usually closed.

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"You're my boss, but you're my friend, too," he points out. "I don't mind doing it, and you could use the break, anyway."

Thomas smiled as he pulled his coat on. The nights were still a bit chilly, but it finally felt like spring. "Alright then, I won't fuss further. Are you ready?"

"Ready," he assures. He pulls his jacket on and makes sure all the lights are off before they lock up for the night. "You know, I could get this whole place wireless," he offers. "Lights, power tools, everything. You could turn everything on and off with your voice."

"But where would the fun in that be? What would keep me awake at night?" Thomas smiled and held the door for Steve on their way out. "I'm catching up on technology but go easy on me."

Thomas made sure the shop doors were locked up, front and back, before they started for the pub of their choosing.

Steve grins, walking beside him. "I've gotta say, you're doing really well, Thomas," he says. "I can't say I'd be adapting as well to such a gear shift."

"You know, I wonder if it helps that I was living through an industrial revolution in my own time," he said. "Everything was becoming mechanized on a massive scale. So while this is all far beyond what I could have ever imagined, it's... It's not impossible, to me. Does that make sense?"

"Absolutely," he assures. "And looking at everything around us, I can see how humanity made the jump to the technology I'm used to. The discovery of mass effect fields helped, but, the baseline is all here."

"Your omni-tool still fascinates me," he said. He got the door for Steve when they reached the pup and followed him in. "A booth, do you think? Bit more settled than sitting at the bar." They were there to eat, after all, not just to drink.

"A booth sounds good," he agrees. "Is there anything you want to know? About my omni-tool. I can try to answer it, and if I can't, I can probably find the answer."

"Too many questions to organize just now, but when I get them in order, I promise I will ask," he said as he settled into a booth. Someone came by to drop off menus for them and to take drink orders. Thomas ordered a dark beer, something he could take his time drinking.

Steve gets a milder beer. More and more, he's been drinking wine instead, probably because of his boyfriend. But ales had never really appealed to him, anyway.

"I'll be ready," he promises with a grin. "Is this what you do after every shift?" he asks once the server leaves. "Find a little bar or pub and just enjoy your own company?"

Thomas smiled a bit. "Only some nights," he said. "I'm much better at cooking, these days, so I usually just go home, take care of the rats, and settle in for the night."

He realized how quiet that sounded, but he didn't mind so much.

"If you ever get lonely or bored, get in touch," Steve says. Agron's still working nights, and Steve's not sure how much longer that will be true, but he'd make the offer even if he and Agron had the same schedule. There's no sense in one of his friends being lonely.

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you," he said, both fond and sincere.

Just a short while later they were able to place their orders, and after the waiter left, Thomas looked across the table to Steve. "May I ask you something that may sound... rather vague?"

Steve frowns, a little curious, but he nods. "Yeah, absolutely. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I think so. I-- Darrow, for me, is a chance to start over. I'm-- I'm not at all proud of most of my life before coming here," he said, careful in his words. Thomas seemed suddenly without his normal social grace and ease. He was concerned, perhaps nervous. "I would rather leave it all behind and never think of it again. I should very much prefer that none of the people I'm close to here know about it. But Edith, the woman I was married to, is also here, and she knows... everything. I don't know if it's reasonable to ask her to keep such secrets on my behalf when I have no right to."

Thomas looked at his dark beer. "I have more friends here, more happiness here, than I have ever had in my life."

Edited 2017-04-20 18:42 (UTC)

Steve watches him, steadily and without judgement, as he talks. "I think that if there's something in your past that's bad enough to have an impact on your present, then it's worth at least . . . trying. It's your secret to tell or not tell, right?" He doesn't know what happened, obviously, he has no idea how bad it could be, but Thomas has been nothing but kind to him since they've met, and he can't imagine it's that bad.

"But how long can one keep a secret in Darrow? It has written my darkest sins on my back once, who is to say something like that would not happen again?"

That had been before he'd really gotten close to anyone, it hadn't had much of an impact.

Steve considers this, then nods. "The way I see it, your past shapes you. No matter what happens in it, it helps to form who you are today, whether by . . . damaging you in some way, or by teaching you what not to do, or, or cushioning you from certain harsh truths.

"I was married for eight years. My husband was killed, and I never got the chance to bury him. That taught me not to take love for granted. Anything can happen, no matter what kind of life you lead, and you should always appreciate the love you have. And the thought of losing someone like that again is scary, it's terrifying. But the alternative, being alone, I can't . . . I can't do that to myself, or to his memory."

Thomas was quiet, listening to Steve's story. He longed to share his own sad tale, but it seemed so.. dark. Still, eventually, he started talking.

"My parents were horrid," he said quietly. "My mother cold and my father-- he managed to burn through whatever money our family had and nearly ruined our name by reputation alone. He was cruel to us, to me in particular." He sighed and took a drink from his glass. "Lucille, my older sister, killed him. She killed our mother as well, and she was sent away to an asylum and I to a boarding school. We didn't see each other again for years. When we were reunited, we had nothing. No money, the house was falling apart."

Thomas sighed. "Lucille had a reputation, no one would marry her and she would have no one. She urged me to marry well, for money." His stomach roiled. "She poisoned them. I didn't stop her."

Steve listens, once more without judgement. But a frown that is equal parts concern and confusion furrows his brow as he listens.

"Them," he prompts gently, and shakes his head. "You married more than once?"

"Four times," he confessed softly. "Edith was the last, the first one I had ever chosen for myself, and I-- she made me want a life away from... all of it. Away from the house, away from Lucille. Lucille killed me, for saving her. It was worth my life to know that she would live."

Steve frowns, and reaches, gripping Thomas's wrist. "When you say your sister . . . urged you to marry these women, do you mean you were coerced? Forced? Did she threaten you?"

"We would lose everything," he murmured, as if he was reciting something that had been said to him so often it was part of his memory. "All we had was each other and that bloody house..." His eyebrows drew together. "She took care of me, protected me. I could-- I could make sure that she had a home."

Thomas shook his head. "She chose each of them before Edith."

"Hey, no. You were a victim, Thomas," Steve insists. "Your sister . . . she manipulated you, she abused you, emotionally." He gently squeezes Thomas's wrist. "Maybe you could have done things differently, but . . ." He shakes his head. "You're a victim, too, Thomas."

"I was a grown man, and I knew it was wrong," he said softly. Even if he'd felt her hooks in him until the very end. "I don't know how any woman that knew that would-- could want to be with me. Edith has forgiven me, I think. But that's different."

"You gave your life for her," he reasons. "Of course it's different. But . . . Thomas, you can't punish yourself forever for something you were forced to do."

"Can I really claim that?" he asked quietly, looking at Steve seriously. "I knew what we were doing was wrong, Steve. I knew that she was going to kill these women."

He looked down at the table. "I never fought her. Not until Edith."

"Of course you didn't," Steve says. "She was the only family you had left. Look, I'm not saying that what you did was right, by any stretch. But you literally died because of it. Don't you think that's punishment enough?"

"Well, there certainly wasn't eternal punishment after that," he pointed out quietly. "I've wanted this second chance so badly, but... will I have to tell this story every time I get close to someone? So that they're prepared in case Darrow tries to tell it for me?"

"That's going to have to be your call to make, Thomas," Steve says. "Your baggage is yours, you know? I guess you just have to decide if the person you're growing close to is worth it."

He might not have told Agron right away about Robert, if Agron hadn't walked up while Steve was listening to the recording. Not everyone can handle the idea of a dead spouse. As though they're living in the shadow of a ghost. In Thomas's case, it would be four of them . . . and he'd assisted in their deaths.

That's a huge shadow.

"It feels like... an anchor. If I were to tell someone, if-- if I were close to them. Would I lose them? Would it just be a series of losing people all over again?"

Thomas shook his head and he sat up slowly, gently drawing his hand free from Steve's.

Steve leaves his hand on the tabletop for a few moments, then slides it back a little, just in case Thomas finds himself missing the contact.

"That's what I'm saying," he says. "You have to make that call. You have to decide if the person you're growing close to is going to be worth the risk of telling them. If you're willing to fight for them if they're not sure they can handle it. You're not that guy anymore, Thomas. You prove that to the right person, and they won't get scared away." Steve's still here, after all. Sure, their friendship is purely platonic, but it's not so very different.

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