Everyone Has to Gather Souls Around Them to Feel Useful and Loving and Loved [Closed]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

WHO| Sigma, Howard and a cat
WHAT| Howard is bad at apologies.
WHEN| End of week 6
WHERE| Sigma's room in District 10
WARNINGS| None yet.

It would be lying for Howard to say that building this play structure is only for Sigma and Nye. He finds some solace in the work, in splitting his mind between architecture and materials and fastenings so much that he can't focus on the events of the Arena. Turning the junk in his room into some sort of productive sculpture pulls him out of that memory sucking at his ankles. It's a rope hoisting him out of Aunamee's fingers on his shoulder, the bruises of captivity on his wrists.

He brushes off an attempt to help from an Avox when it comes to getting the thing up into the elevator, preferring instead to do it alone despite the red imprints of edges in his palms and the sweat prickling at the back of his neck. It's a large beast, a small building of gutter tubes and cardboard platforms wrapped in carpeting, of dangling feathers and beads and velvety fabric to make hammocks. Howard studied countless cat playgrounds on the internet to decide how to make this one. It's even visually pleasing, all blue fabric and grey metal and painted wood. There are still powder-blue smudges under Howard's fingernails.

After there's no answer to his knocking, he lets himself in to Sigma's room. It doesn't occur to him that he shouldn't ignore the locked door, even though he'd hate for someone to do the same to him. He uses his foot to block Nye from escaping as he lugs the gift in, the scoops the cat up and into his lap as he sits on the floor next to the bed.

Nye doesn't seem to especially enjoy being picked up like that, but Howard's urge to coddle something overrides the cat's mewling protests, and boy and animal wait for Sigma there.

Comments

[futilecycle]

After his death and subsequent reanimation, Sigma took pleasure in walking outdoors, even in a place as gaudy and crowded as the Capitol; being capable of breathing without pain was a freedom he'd taken for granted. He felt decades younger, dare he say it... not quite as youthful as he'd been a year ago in the simulated mars mission, but it was an improvement. His age caught up with him in frightful leaps and bounds these days, and he suspected it would be a sharp decline from here had the Capitol not mysteriously continued to reset his age. Not since he'd lost his arms and eye had he gone through such suffering.

Returning from one of his now daily walks, Sigma found someone had beaten him home when he discovered his unlocked door: it meant, unfortunately, at least one of the children had not been successful. Dr. Klim took a deep breath and let himself inside, preparing for the worst.

Sigma had to admit he was relieved to find Howard, as skin and bones as he was. He normally never watched footage of the Arena now that Kyle was no longer in the running, but he had watched his reunion with Howard to make sure he'd left safely. The boy's delayed confession had broken his heart, and Sigma had watched the recording over and over again, trying to discover when and how Howard got the impression he was upset with him (pretending to be healthy had an been easy act to see through, as it turned out). Sighing in relief, Sigma took a step forward. Yes, he had hoped to talk with the child, who had surely discovered how the Doctor had died by now. "Howar-"

Then he froze. Taking up significant space in his otherwise organized room was Howard's craft, and Sigma was overwhelmed by the size of the homemade gift. His face fell. He realized suddenly that Howard valued giving items (and animals) more than words, and buying someone's affection was a poor trait Sigma felt he needed to correct. His gaze shot from the cat tower to Howard with a sharp turn of the neck.

Trying to be gentle and firm at once, with the permanent glare his wrinkles gave him, Sigma comes off as scolding instead. "...What is going on here?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's dozed off slightly by the time Sigma walks in. Between the horribly interrupted sleep he's been getting and the warm cat, which has since stopped fighting him and curled up in his lap and against his chest, he's rested his head against the side of the bed and closed his eyes. The slightest bit of drool wets the corner of his mouth.

When the door opens, when Sigma says his name, he startles to the point of scaring Nye off his lap. He rubs his eyes and blinks at Sigma, although his mind only catches up with the world in time to catch Sigma's following question.

"I-" Howard blinks and stands up, and at the tone, filtered through Howard's sieves that catch up all the gentleness and reject it, he takes a step back, then another and puts the bed between him and Sigma. It's not even a conscious thing, protecting himself from even the slightest idea of a threat. "I just thought- I thought Nye would like it..."

[futilecycle]

The Doctor's brow furrows as Howard backs away, surprised at his defensive behaviour. He wonders if he should question him at all in this state; Sigma rubs his eyes and sighs tiredly. He steals a glance at the giant cat tower.

"Howard..."

Careful to let the boy come to him, Sigma sits down on his bed, as if he'd never left the position after taking care of him. Taking a seat cuts the Doctor's height significantly and gives them a chance to speak almost at eye level. He needed to hear everything in the boy's own words.

"...What is this about?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard calms a little bit, placing the fight or flight response to the side, where it belongs. He takes a deep breath and smears sleep from his eyes.

"I...I don't know, I just made it. I thought Nye would like it. You know, because he's cooped up in here during the Arenas." His words tumble and spill off like lemmings for the cliff. It's easier to give and rationalize than it is to apologize, or worse, to ask the fateful words.

Are you still mad?

He wrings one hand in the other.

[futilecycle]

Unconvinced, Sigma stares the boy down. "Howard, if that were true, you would have made this for him earlier. Nye has been in my company for some time, now, and I doubt you have only just noticed- and as you were recently resurrected, at that- that his living space was limited." Now Sigma folds his hands clinically upon his lap, ready to deliver the decisive blow against Howard's excuse. "If this were truly a gift for Nye, you would not have waited for me before you let him play, let alone wait for me at all."

Perhaps he will have to come out and ask directly before Howard will admit to anything. Having always believed in Howard, he gives him one more chance to tell the truth on his own terms. "I will ask one more time. What is this about?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard fidgets, rocking back and forth, foot to foot, picking with both fingers at his lower lip. A muscle under his eye tenses.

"I-I-I..." He swallows the stutter back down. He doesn't know how to put it in words. I don't want you to reject me entirely. I miss you. Please don't be mad at me anymore.

Failing to find those words, he instead darts into Sigma's bathroom and locks the door.

[futilecycle]

Howard's body language responds to more than someone put on the spot by a friend, and Sigma is about to cut into his stuttering, ask him to calm down, before Howard overreacts. Stunned by the doorslam, Sigma stares at the wall where Howard had been, left to wonder how he had once again managed to ruin so much by saying so little.

He waits to see if the tantrum will resolve itself. Following the boy after a patient minute, Sigma knocks twice, urgently. Nye follows at his master's feet with a curious chirp. "Howard? Please, come out... I want to understand."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Behind the door, Howard sinks to the ground, rubber soles of his shoes making a squeal sound against the tile. He purses his lips and breathes deep, trying to keep from hyperventilating. When Sigma knocks, he all but jerks out of his own skin.

Why does it always have to be so hard not to panic?

"I didn't mean to get you sick!" he finally says, and his voice somehow comes out a high-pitched yell rather than the calm, measured response it sounded like in his head.

[futilecycle]

There's a silence following Howard's confession, and Sigma's gaze falls to the crack of the door. He believes he is beginning to understand what this was about, little by little.

The Doctor somehow knows Howard is on the bathroom floor: it seemed a very Howard thing to do. He kneels down and puts his hand on the door as if his reassurance could radiate through it. "I know," he says gently, "I caught your flu by my own choosing, Howard. I decided I would be fine with it." After a certain point, somewhere between Howard's slip of the tongue and the walk back to his room, Sigma knew he would catch the fatal illness if he did not leave the boy to himself, as much as he wanted to deny it. In the end, staying had been the same as actively choosing to get sick - but with Howard the way that he was, it was better than the alternative.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

For a while, Howard says nothing, even though he knows, even as he hears Sigma's voice so close to his ear, just on the other side of the door. He's sure his quick breathing can be heard outside - it seems to be an echoing cacophony against the bathroom tile.

"Then why did you lie and leave me?" It sounds more accusatory than he means it.

[futilecycle]

There's a growl stuck in Sigma's throat with how angry he is at himself for failing to conceal his illness from Howard. The Doctor had never wished for Howard to panic over someone as unimportant as himself.

"It was because I didn't want this to happen."

Of course, it still hadn't played out as Sigma had foreseen. He had expected Howard to be heartbroken and upset with himself for making Sigma ill, not fearing emotional retaliation. All the prophetic powers in the universe and yet he could not predict the reactions of one boy.

"I am old, Howard. I can no longer fight off disease as a young man can. I knew that it was going to kill me and I wished to shield you from the truth." It is perhaps the most honest and straightforward Sigma has been with someone in a long time.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard snorts behind the door. It sounds wetter than it normally would. He wipes at his nose. "I'm pretty sure you didn't predict me holding your bathroom hostage."

He balls his hands up and rests them over his face. He's guilty, upset, and scared, all in a cocktail he doesn't know how to swallow. The idea that Sigma could add to the wealth of anger Howard's already been pouring on himself was just enough to push him over the edge.

"They broadcast the Games. You know I watch the tapes."

[futilecycle]

"You are correct. I did not." The corner of Sigma's lips twist into a sad smile, heard through his words. Having forgotten how to joke properly and his sensitivity lost, he makes one in poor taste:

"Did your parents never lie to you about Santa Claus, Howard? Sometimes adults choose to postpone the inevitable..." Sigma finally takes a seat, sitting against the door and folding his arms, turned to speak over his shoulder. "...I never intended to hurt you." He wished Howard could see he lied to him because he cared about him.

poor sigma ):

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

It's the wrong thing to say. Howard gives a wail and buries his head in his arms. He understands where Sigma is coming from, what images he's trying to invoke, but to exhume his parents from under the despair of abandonment would take years, not a simple word. Sigma can't just assume love and care without also dredging up the betrayal that came after them.

After a moment, Howard calms his throat (still jerking with attempted sobs and hastened breaths) long enough to ask, in a painfully childish manner, "is Nye playing on the thing?"

that's just life :P

[futilecycle]

On the other side of the door Sigma flinches, heart sinking in his chest. There were times when he wondered why he even bothered trying to rehabilitate himself into a world inhabited by more than just Akane, why he didn't become a recluse and only appear when his presence in the Arena was needed. Now it's his turn to put his hands over his face.

Fully aware Howard is still crying, Sigma lowers his hands from his eyes to find Nye. The cat had moved from his feet to the bed after Sigma had sat down, still watching his master and the bathroom door curiously.

"He won't until you come out here," Sigma sighs. "You may have to show him it's his." He had been unafraid to set boundaries with the cat and demonstrate it was strictly not permitted to sharpen claws on the bed and other pieces of furniture Sigma wished to keep functional. (The Capitol-property carpet, however, was fine.)

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard takes deep breaths and wipes his nose on some of the tissues in the bathroom. It takes steeling up his nerves to will himself to get up and go face Sigma after this emotional outburst.

He should be ashamed of himself. He is. He only wanted to apologize and make things right, and instead the fight-or-flight response that rears its head at any and every moment, even with the man who risked his life to comfort him while he was racked with fever.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, tiny under his oversized clothing, like garbage bags of bones. Nose red, lips pale, dark skin ashy and with purple-tinted circles under his eyes. He sniffs again and rubs at the corners of his eyes with his fingers.

He cracks open the door. "Okay."

[futilecycle]

Sigma stands and nearly backs into the bed to give Howard space to exit. At the creaking of the door, Nye jumps down to greet Howard with a trill. Not one to be upstaged by a cat, Sigma tentatively reaches forward and offers his right arm for whatever Howard needs it for - a touch to keep him grounded, a hand to hold, a half-hug, or simply a reassuring gesture to draw him from the bathroom.

Realizing now he'll never have a chance to discuss Neffa's death with the boy, he resigns himself to trying to help Howard survive the games without needing to resort to such violence. He would do the same for Eponine, as well.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

As much as Howard loves the comfort of the cat, it's Sigma's arms that have his attention first. He takes the half hug, clinging slightly with his bony fingers at Sigma's back.

It's enough to know that Sigma is still here and hasn't vanished into air.

After a moment he crouches down and greets Nye. He gathers the cat up in his arms - the creature's protest is minimal - and nuzzles his face against its furry neck. He breathes deep.

[futilecycle]

Unused to physical contact, something inside him is both revolted and relieved by the almost-hug at once - despite this unfamiliarity Sigma pulls Howard close as Howard clings to him. Where the boy is skin and bones Sigma is a metal gentle giant, and the differences between them have never been more clear as Sigma towers over him, softly stroking Howard's shoulder. It's too difficult, too foreign and suffocating, for Sigma to try and comfort Howard with a full hug, but this is enough.

Giving Howard some time with the cat, Sigma moves to inspect Howard's work in all its complexity. He wonders how much time Howard must have spent on the labyrinth, for all the trouble it must have been to measure each platform and carpet square and tube. His finger grazes a hanging arrangement of feathers. "Thank you for the gift, Howard. I like it very much."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's even gone to the effort of making sure the cat tower is squeaky-clean, having seen how tidy and hygienic Sigma's room is before. Howard gets up and places Nye on one of the platforms, stroking the cat's neck to keep him still for a moment, and then jostles one of the hanging baubles to get the cat's attention.

He visibly relaxes to see that Sigma does, actually, appreciate the gift. Somehow the act of giving seems to solidify bonds to Howard, and the between the hug and the acceptance the tension leaks out of him a little. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm glad. You're welcome." He bites his lip. "Thanks for taking care of me when I was sick. Even though..."

[futilecycle]

Sigma interjects firmly, cutting off the boy's guilt before he has a chance to sink back into it. "Even though nothing. It was worth it, and I would do it again, Howard."

Though the Doctor is addressing Howard, he watches Nye with a relaxed smile on his face. After his master's silent approval, the cat begins to attack the string dangling from the new piece of furniture. As though mesmerized by such a simple thing, Sigma leans his metal arms against the cat tower and rests his chin in his hands. His voice is as gentle and dreamlike as his expression. "Perhaps it would even be best if we didn't speak on it from now on."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Sounds good to me." Howard's happy to file it away with all the other awful things that happened in the past and are untouchable by present actions. He rests his chin on one of the carpet-covered perches and watches as the cat hooks its claw into one of the feather danglers and roll onto its back, kicking and chewing at it.

They spend a very long time there in silence, until long after the cat's done playing.