Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“But, Sophie,” He began, his speech even still weak.
“I… I just want you to remember that if you… if you’re not feeling well… you know, like if you feel scared, or sad, or… what ever… tell us.”
Jack squeezed her firm in reassurance.

“Please. That’s all I ask.”

That's the moment. Sophie Walten is usually decent, quiet, calm. She's sitting here in front of her father.

And she doesn't feel the heat anymore. It's as if something is splitting, as if something is penetrating her veins. Fear, despair, anger.

Her hand brushed off her father's hand. She didn't want him to touch her, she didn't want his sugary words. She didn't want a fake lie. She's old enough, old enough to understand.

Jack Walten sighs too. His image is crumbling, his mask is crumbling. The man behind the scenes grabs him by the collar, pulls him to himself, he feels a fervent heat. He becomes unbearable.

Jack can almost feel the distrust, he can almost feel those eyes looking at him.. Sophie looked like Felix. Her eyes are incredulous, her pupils are small, nondescript. An overhanging eyelid almost covers her eye slit. The girl insults him with just one look.

“You already said that.” She suddenly spoke, in a slightly annoyed. Jack wanted to say something, to stop her, to tell her that he didn't mean it. But Sophie was always one step ahead of him. Felix has always been.

"You fucking always say that"
An expletive on her tongue. It pinches, bites her, eats her insides. But something clicks, and Jack can't even say anything to punish her or reproach her. He can't blame her, he can't, it's so hard.

Other hands are burning on his hands.

"You always say "us", but you are not there! Enough! You're lying to me!" Sophie is boiling, Sophie is on fire. And Jack feels like a dog being kicked in a doorway. He feels pain, but all he can do is lower his eyes. He swallows, his adam's apple twitching.

"Do you know who has never lied to me?" The girl jumps up from her seat, she runs to the door, pointing with her hand at her favorite photo. She, Uncle Felix and her father are in the park.

"Sophie, I'm begging you-" Begging? What the hell is going on with him? His hands are shaking, Mr. Walten is falling apart, his mask is splitting into several pieces, tears begin to flow down his wrinkled face. He looks up at Sophie. At her little red face. A face reflecting betrayal.

Jackie goes outside.

Here it is. A seventeen-year-old boy standing in college, being lectured by a teacher. And he can't say anything, knowing full well that it's his fault.

"Felix never lied to me!" Her voice breaks, as it did at the table. Sophie's father is no longer in front of her. Not a stately, cold man. It's a stranger who's crying. Who never cried.
But she doesn't care. Her rage overwhelms her. She opens the door and slams it, she runs down the stairs to the front door. It's already starting to get dark outside. Jack Walten stays put, right there, sitting on Sophie's bed. Jackie explodes behind her.

The man's legs are melting, he can't reach her, catch up with her, damn it, a terrible nightmare. The last thing he sees is her grabbing her skate and hiding behind the bushes. He knows where she's going, he's seen her many times-at any quarrel Sophie disappears. She's leaving, running away to where it's safe. Where it always smells of burning cologne, where bottles always sound, where her uncle falls asleep with the TV on, and Sophie can watch it until the morning, where her uncle cooks pancakes for her in the morning, where he smiles at her and she is not afraid. Where she feels warm.

Jack stands still. He's angry..No, he's afraid. For the first time, he doesn't have rage. For the first time, he wants it all to be just a nightmare. So that he comes to work tomorrow. So that he wouldn't tell him any of this, damn it. For the strange man backstage to kiss him again.

Sophie picked up the skate and threw it on the lawn in front of the pale yellow house. Out of habit, she knocked, but remembering that she could enter through the back door in the yard, she jumped off the porch and headed for the yard. The door from the side was open as always. The insect net was swinging from the light wind.
The girl blinked away tears. She didn't like to show her uncle emotions, although he could understand her. He always understood her like no one else. Sophie just didn't want to upset him any more.

Perhaps he would be glad to have her! Maybe he wouldn't have done what he wanted if she had come. If she had said again that she needed him. Maybe everything would be fine..

The girl went into the house, where it was unbearably quiet.It was..unusual. Usually the record player was playing, or the TV was on, or her uncle would just cough. But it was quiet, and so lonely that Sophie swallowed her tongue at first. After a few seconds, she called her uncle, usually by name.

There was no response.

Sophie called him one more time to make sure that he didn't just not hear her because maybe he was sleeping on the second floor in the bedroom, or was in the bath.

The girl shrugged, looking around. it would have been possible to wait for uncle, he would surely have returned soon - it was already getting late.

Sophie walked around the kitchen. It usually smelled of alcohol and burnt carpet. It warmed her up. She grunted, went to the sink and looked into it to look for a glass of water, immediately jumped back.
The porcelain sink, with a yellow coating, was covered with vomit and blood, which slowly flowed down the drain. Sophie snorted and turned away. Fear overwhelmed her and she screamed Felix's name as she jogged into the living room.

The girl ran into the living room, where it was dark and cold. She felt uncomfortable-although she wasn't afraid of the dark. A few steps to the left, a few steps to the right. Her socks were soaked. Sophie lifted her foot in disgust, looking at her sock, and quickly taking it off. it smelled of blood. her hands were covered in blood from the sock. She staggered back, throwing him away and put her foot in the same puddle.
The scream was frightening, she turned around and slipped, plopping down on the floor, her palms were in this puddle.
She picked them up, looking at her small hands. And then her gaze darted to the carpet in front of the TV where she liked to lie and leaf through old newspapers.

Her eyes were filled with pure horror when the piercing children's cry overshadowed the quiet house. Tears sprang out, naivety broke off.

He was lying there. Her beloved uncle. He was wearing his home shirt and work trousers. His eyes are half open. There was no warmth in them. Only the light from the electric clock on the shelf under the TV was reflected in them. His arms were stretched out on the carpet, he was lying in a pool of blood, blood was also coming out of his mouth and something yellow. There was a phone receiver in his hand, it was almost pressed to his ear, as if he was talking to someone.

Or wanted to.

Sophie began to cry, she jumped on the lifeless body, she pounded on it with her hands, she beat chest, sobbed, clung to shirt. Noticing Felix's wound, she began to press her small hands to it, trying to save, return, stop it. She wanted to become a believer, she had no choice. She wanted to listen to her mother then that God would punish her if she behaved badly. She just wanted to hug her uncle. Her friend.

It was painful, it was cold. Hatred tore her apart. She was a teenager.

"It's all your fucking fault! Bastard! Freak! I hate you!" She was banging her hands on the floor, her legs were shaking. She felt like she was ceasing to be and exist. Sophie is seven years old again. She crawls under her uncle's side again when her parents left and left her with him. And here she is, snuffling and grunting. Exactly the same. But he's not like that. His heart is no longer beating in her ear. His breath doesn't annoy her anymore. He no longer snores, disturbing her sleep. She won't kick him in the side with her foot anymore, and he won't grunt when he gets up to bring her a mug of water. It won't happen again.

It won't happen again.

Sophie closes her eyes. She curls up in a ball next to him. Felix looks the same. Almost. Her small fingers find his eyelids, and slowly close them. He's just sleeping, she assures herself, and lying down with her hair wet with sweat and blood on her uncle's chest, Sophie falls asleep to eat delicious pancakes in the morning and drink hot milk..

Sophie opens her eyes. She's sitting in the car, Molly and Edd are sitting silently next to her. Well, more precisely, only Edd. Molly whimpers, tears rolling down her young face. Mom is sitting in the front seat in absolute silence. The girl turns her head, looking out the window. She sees him. Jack Walten. His black, big raincoat, his dirty short hair. She sees his face. It expresses nothing.

like Jack is dead.

Although it is. He's not moving, he's not breathing. His eyes don't look, his heart doesn't beat.

Sophie looks at herself in the side mirror. Her face is sagging, her teeth are yellow from smoking. Her hands were stained. Her fingers are thin and cold.

Edd gets annoyed."When we go home, it's unbearable!" Sophie tries to keep quiet. Her 13-year-old brother never liked the fact that they went here every Friday. To the city cemetery. For the past damn five years.

Sophie hears their mother's voice. It's hoarse and distant, but she doesn't listen to what she's saying to her brother. The girl opens the door, jumping out of the car, and heading towards that stranger in a black raincoat.

"Aren't you tired of it? You've been standing here for half an hour." Jack blinks, slowly turning to her. His eyes express complete indifference to her claim.

"What do you need."The voice is cold as always. Complete oblivion. Sophie blinks several times, thrusting her hands into the pockets of a torn down jacket.

"I'm leaving" She turns away from him and leaves, the car door opens and Molly asks where she is going, in response to which she only gets "fuck off." Jack turns around too, shouting after her.

"Are you coming to dinner?"She raises her hand and gives him the middle finger, putting on her hood and walking away towards the forest. Sophie hears her mother start yelling at Jack again. For letting her go or something. She doesn't care that her mother is torn, screaming for her to come back right away, and then says that Sophie's feet are no longer in their house. Jack just watches, then gets into the car and drives off in a completely different direction from the one where Sophie goes.

She doesn't come back for dinner, or at midnight, or tomorrow, or in a week.