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Remember Who You Are


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March 1, 2013

 

Gina found Steve in her bathtub one morning, the tub dry and Steve still in the new pajamas she'd bought for him for Christmas. He'd changed into them at dark like clockwork every evening they were together, even when he was just going to get changed again later. "I am in the bathtub." He looked up at her as she pulled aside the shower curtain. "I did not want to frighten you if I caught you unawares. Is it morning?" he asked her. From the look in his eyes and the set to his metal-reinforced spine, there was no sign he'd slept the night before. "I had lost track of the time." He started to get up, careful so that his great weight did not unseat the tub from its foundations. 

 

The truth of the matter was, he hadn't slept a wink that night, despite what had otherwise been a very pleasant evening, or the two nights before, but Steve would no more complain about that than he would have a broken arm. 

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Gina rubbed her forehead and tried to blink away drowsiness. "Yes, I see you are in the bathtub," she agreed. "I might be missing something here, but it doesn't look like you're taking a bath. Have you been sitting there all night?" She tried to remember whether he'd gotten out of bed last night, but they'd retired late and she was not a light sleeper. "Why weren't you in bed?"

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"I was unable to sleep. I preferred not to wake you." Given Steve's great weight, slipping out of bed without jostling Gina had been something of a challenge. "I should have kept a closer watch on the time." He caught sight of himself in Gina's bathroom mirror, standing tall and straight, and met his own gaze impassively before looking down at Gina again. "Do you ever want to have children?" he asked her seriously. "Because I do not, and I have read that is something that should be established in relationships like ours." 

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Gina gaped at him for a minute, her prodigious brain blanking like a hard drive shaken too hard. "I... what?" she stammered. "I mean, no, I haven't even really thought about it seriously, I'm only twenty-four and in no shape to take care of another human being. Taking care of Sharl is weird enough and I'm pretty sure he doesn't even count." She rubbed both hand down her face, stretching her skin over her cheekbones. "Did you spend all night sitting in the bathtub wondering if we're going to have kids? Jesus, Steve, that seems a little bit premature."

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"No," Steve assured her with a quick shake of his head, coloring along his scars in embarrassment at her reaction. "I have been spending much time with children lately. More than I certainly ever believed that I would. The Omegaorphans, Yolanda, and now Dorothy, and I have been thinking about how I should never be a father. I have too many problems to give of myself enough for a helpless innocent like that, and I have...I have seen too much happen to children. And to mothers. I would not want that to happen again. I am content to care for them. I just..." He put his hand on the back of his neck. "Wanted to know if you felt the same. About children, and life. You are a fine caregiver for Sharl."  

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Gina rubbed the bridge of her nose with her  thumb and forefinger. "Just because you've had bad things happen and have seen bad things happen, that doesn't mean you don't have what it takes to be a father, if that's what you want. Though it wouldn't happen for a long time, I mean, if we were going to go that route, which I don't know..." She shook her head. "Look, can you just get out of the bathtub and we can have this conversation somewhere else? I have to pee, and I feel like we're in the middle of a Monty Python sketch or something." 

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When she was done in the bathroom, Gina found Steve, still fully-dressed in his pajamas, making breakfast in the kitchen. He had a small handful of meals that he rotated through, all hard-won skills he'd picked up during his life skills education in Freedom City. "My genes are badly corrupted. It is unlikely that I am now capable of fathering children." He flipped over the eggs he was frying. "Perhaps the point is moot to begin with. I am no more capable physically of fatherhood than I would be emotionally." Sizzle sizzle, sizzle sizzle. "Had you thought of having children when you were older?"  

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A few minutes of privacy had allowed Gina to regain some equilibrium, even if this was a conversation she'd rather kick down the road till... well, possibly never. She shrugged calmly at the question and pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge. "Like I said, I obviously haven't given this nearly as much thought as you seem to have. I don't know yet if I want kids, or when, or how. There's a lot I want to do with my life, and the way things are, I wouldn't be able to do them the same way if I were a mom." 

 

She poured one tall glass of juice for Steve, then a half-glass for herself. "Anyway, it would be stupid to even consider at this point in my life, out of the question. I can barely take care of myself." As she spoke, Gina popped the top on a can of Mountain Dew and poured it into her orange juice. "But we've had the birth control chat already, and it's been weeks since you came back form the ringworld. What's bringing this on now?" 

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"Because the last woman I loved died of having a child," said Steve suddenly, nearly dropping his glass as he set it down on the counter before him. He looked down at his lined hands and said, "There, I...I have said it, and I did not break. The words cannot hurt me." He looked at Gina and said, "It was before. After my parents were dead, before I was taken. We were young, and we were all the other had, and when she became pregnant she killed herself so that she would not birth a child into the misery of the Black Ghetto." He flattened his free hand on the counter next to him. "She had saved some of the poison for me but I could not make myself take it. So instead I took her body to where it could be burned, and I did it so that predators could not take her. Aaand when I lay awake and looked at you tonight, I remembered what I had lost and how I could lose that again. And so I could not sleep." 

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There was a long moment of complete silence in the kitchen, broken only by the sizzle and pop of the bacon still frying in the pan. Gina thought longingly of the half-finished robot sitting in her private lab, wishing she'd managed to get it done already. If she were in the Miss Americana shell, it would be so much easier to think of the right thing to say. Instead, she just stood there like a jackass while her brain chased itself in small circles. "It's not like that here," she finally said, swallowing past the lump lodged in her throat. "I'm sorry, so sorry, about what happened to you and your family. But if I were going to kill myself, I'd have done it years ago. I don't have that in me. And this isn't the Terminius. It's... it's not like that here." 

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"I know." Steve reached out and hugged her, pulling her tightly to his broad chest for just a moment. "But I am a son of that place, and it will be with me till the end of my days. Even knowing there is no rational way that you could share her fate, I remember what was lost and...I fear enough for you, and for me, when we are together," he confessed. "They have come together for us in a way I thought was lost. I could not risk going any further with that. With anyone else." He released Gina and turned back to their food. "I have seen fathers at work. Before, and here, with men like Jack and so many others. I am not brave enough to be a father." He dished up, adding, "We have the lives that we have. I am content with mine today."

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Gina took the plate he offered, her hand brushing his lightly as she did so. "I'm glad you're content," she told him as she walked to the table, "and I sure as hell am not ready for parenthood, but that stuff about not making a good father is bull. Lots of men become fathers without having half your bravery and integrity. A lot of them don't even bother to think it over first." She was distracted enough to scoop up a forkful of eggs and eat it without thinking. "Look at my dad, he had no spine and no imagination and managed to raise three kids anyway. You're ten times the man he was. If you wanted to be a dad, I'm sure you'd be a good one." 

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Steve noticed the name first, and then the food. Both discussion of her past, and eating, were rare things from his girlfriend. "I never knew my father in his prime, only the man he was in the Black Ghetto. He loved me as much as he was able, as did my mother. For all that they were...not like mothers and fathers here, I could do worse for examples." He began to eat from his own plate, relaxed enough not to hoard, stirring everything together on his plate before eating. "A parent should be able to put their child above all else, without hesitation. When I can slip the bonds that are in here..." he tapped the side of his head. "I will be ready then. Faster, with you." 

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"In any case, it's not something we have to think about for a long time." Part of Gina was curious to know about the woman Steve had loved, but it sounded like a very painful subject on several levels. It also weirded her out a little to do the math and realize that, given the years Steve had spent as a drone, if the woman had lived she'd be Gina's grandma's age now, or even older. Thinking about how old Steve was always managed to creep her out just a little bit, but it was actually one of the less-creepy things she'd managed to accept about him. "But if you're curious, you could always get a medical workup to see what might still be swimming down there," she suggested. "I could probably do it, but not till I get the robot put back together and some equipment rounded up." 

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"What was once my organic body has been altered nearly beyond my recognition. I doubt there is much to see," said Steve, but he didn't say no. Instead he carefully took his usual seat across the table from Gina, careful not to overburden the chair he sat on. "Speaking of children," he said thoughtfully, "I have been thinking of taking those who have been under my care out together. Yolanda has shown no fear of Omegadrones from her rescue, and the Omegaorphans would benefit from time out together. They have done well at their school and with their adoptive families, but they have rare chances to socialize together. The school...is concerned about them damaging each other. In here," he added, tapping his temple. "There has been some difficulty in reversing the policies that my replicant agreed to." 

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"Do you want me to talk to someone at the school?" Gina asked, grateful to be changing the subject to something less personal. "I'm not sure how Yolanda's guardians would feel about sending her out with the ex-drone kids at her age, but they should at least be able to spend time with each other." She tapped her fingers lightly against the table. "I don't know who the psychologist is at Nicholson these days, but I'll drop a line to Dr. Franklin at the Freedom League and sound him out. Why don't you look into organizing some kind of spring break excursion? I'm sure we can get all the bureaucracy smoothed out by then. You could maybe take them and their families to the state park, do swimming, boating, things like that. Low stress, not a lot of people around." 

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"I doubt they will have any complaints," said Steve with a little shrug. "They have never been anything but welcoming to me, and I have told them of my work with the Orphans and their reintegration into society." He set down his fork and gathered both his words and his thoughts. "You know," he hazarded on the unsubtle way he had that meant this was obviously a suggestion, "I have an idea. You should come with us. You said it yourself, there will be few people, a pleasant spring day, and only those who we care for around. The children will be interested in playing together and in seeing the place, not in anything else. And their parents are grateful just to have them in their lives." 

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Gina shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not feasible," she told him. "Even if I do have the new robot perfected by then, I have lost so much time this past couple months already, I'm going to be drowning in work. This Day of Wrath stuff has gotten people remembering Archeville's bugout, and some people are pretty nervous. It's really not an ideal time for Miss Americana to be out of commission. I need to get her out there and stumping for the company and for heroes in general as soon as possible. Sending her to the lake for a weekend just wouldn't do the trick." 

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This was not an easy conversation for Steve, who preferred to stay far away from things that might blow up in his face most of the time. But having done one brave thing already, Steve pushed the point. "Not Miss Americana. You." He gave her a searching look. "When I heard your voice in the depths of space, I was amazed that you had built a machine that let you speak to me. When I saw it was you, I was...overwhelmed. " He put his hand on the table next to hers. "I know what it was for you to do that, more than anyone else. Take one more step with me," he urged her. "Together. The children will delight in meeting the woman I love, and Yolanda will treasure you. She already wants a suit of her own one day." 

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"No way," Gina said flatly, pulling her hand back. "I thought you understood that was a one-time deal. Your life was in danger and I didn't have any other way to help, so I did what had to be done. But you saw how it was afterwards and how wrecked up I was. You want me to go through all that again just so you can drag me out on some stupid picnic? Is that what all this is about?" she demanded, waving a hand to indicate the whole morning's conversation. "I left the house once, so now you think I'm going to be totally normal and it's time to start thinking about vacations and babies and all that BS? Cause it's not going to happen that way. I'm still just as messed up as I ever was, and so are you. That's just who we are." She shoved her plate away, sending it sliding halfway across the table.

Edited by Electra
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"I spent the entire night sitting in your bathtub because I was unable to stop seeing your body burning in the fires of the charnel pits of Nihilor," replied Steve as he folded his arms, voice going cold. "Do you think I have the capacity for normal? The imagination of it? You suggested a day out somewhere peaceful and content, I suggested you might want to come. That is the end of it." He looked away. "Do you think I have some...some pathetic fantasy of a life in your suburbs? You are not an inferior copy of a normal woman. I do not want to change you into someone you are not." He rose to his feet and began gathering his dishes. "And I hoped you would not believe that I would...connive against you as you seem to imagine me capable of doing." 

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"I didn't say you were conniving," Gina told him, her voice clipped. "I said that you were assuming way too much based on one isolated event. I didn't have fun going to rescue you, and it wasn't a relaxing good time. If I go on your little excursion, it won't be peaceful and contented, it'll be a little slice of hell. And I know that it's stupid, and I know that my problems are all in my head, and I know that they have to seem trivial compared to everything that you and the other ex-drones have been through, but that doesn't mean I can just say sure, let's go out for a nice day in the park." She seemed to deflate in her seat, even as she tossed her fork onto her nearly-untouched plate. "But I'll set it up for you if that's what you want to do with them." 

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"Yes," said Steve, "that would be acceptable." He was tense, like a vibrating wire, but even so managed not to snap any of the dishes as he loaded them into the sink and began running scalding-hot water over them. When his hands were buried in steaming-hot water, he looked up at Gina and said abruptly, "I am a freak. I have survived the depths of Nihilor and emerged broken from the pit. Do not compare yourself to me. It is pointless." Over a clatter of dishes, he added, "You are not less because something about me is more than msot. My wounds do not heal yours. Even if you will not say what they are, I know they are there! You are not less for me for that." 

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Gina waved a hand irritably in his direction as she pushed away from the table and stood up. "I know it's not a competition, I'm not making it a competition," she told him. "That would be asinine. But it's not just you, half the heroes in this city cope with lives that are littered with tragedy and death and horrible things, and they're still okay, they're still going out there and getting it done. And you, you've come out of this horrific background and you've pulled yourself together and gotten a regular job and friends and you just do what has to be done."

 

She gestured at herself derisively, her tone suddenly bitingly snide." And then I look at myself and it's just "boo-hoo, nobody loved me and people were mean," and for that I hole up in my house for three years? That's what I let ruin my life? And I know all that crap, but it still doesn't let me step out the door, and it's just..." She groaned in frustration, grabbing a handful of her own hair and pulling on it. "It's just so stupid."

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Steve removed his soaking-wet, reddened hands from the sink and dabbed at them with a towel; the barrier he'd put between himself and Gina suddenly seeming less than pointless. "That other people have survived a fall does not sweeten hitting the ground," he said seriously, approaching his sometime-lover slowly, so as not to further pressure her already fragile soul.  "love you. And Sharl loves you. Those who know you love you. That does not make the past any better, but it exists today. The weak do not suffer. The weak die of suffering. You have suffered, and you are still here, and have done all the things you have done. Scars..." And just for a moment, he caught a glimpse of his own hand as he reached for her. "are nothing to be ashamed of." 

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