Genre: Angst. Drama. Romance. Friendship. Post-Movie.
Word Count: 1474
Pairings/Characters: Curtis Everett/Edgar.
Synopsis: In which Curtis is surprised enough that he wakes up after the train crash, and more surprised to find he's not alone.
Comments: Just saw the movie like last week and needed something happier than the movie's ending, and so this happened... It'll probably have some more parts. First try at Snowpiercer fic. Characters are not mine (expect the ones that are), please enjoy! Comments are awesome.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
It's not until later, after Andrew, with Andy, and Tonya, with Timmy, have both left to rejoin their own respectively reunited families that Edgar is finally ready. He'd been stalling before they left - game after game after game with the kids, kicking the ball around the backyard until the sun had started to set. He's not rushing once they're gone, either, dragging Curtis back up to the room he'd woken up in, reveling in a hot shower; he loiters while picking out something to wear (something he's never had to do before because on the train whatever you had you wore until it could no longer be repaired, Curtis thinks, so there's no reason it should take him this long).
Finally, he gives Curtis this little nod and makes for the stairs, for the door, and now it is Curtis's turn to freak out because this is happening and he's not sure he can face it.
Gilliam had been the one to decide how much of the truth to tell Edgar when he got old enough to ask about his mother. He remembered her, a little. He remembered enough to ask, when he was five or six, where she was. Gilliam had told him, while Curtis had stood aside and tried not to remember. "Things were bad," Gilliam had said, "When we boarded the train, things were bad. Someone hurt her, but they didn't hurt you. They'd never hurt you," Gilliam had said, with a pointed look at Curtis over the boy's shoulder.
Edgar had never asked who the someone was.
"I can't do this," Curtis says, and he stops. The hand that's been clutching at his for so long now falls away with the momentum and Edgar turns to face him in confusion. Curtis can't blame him. Edgar had followed him to his own death, as he'd led a rebellion with no chance of success, and now he can't follow Edgar for this one thing?
"I... I need to tell you something. And it's something I should have told you a long time ago, back when you first asked me what happened to your mother." Curtis is geared up for a rambling confession, for begging Edgar to one day maybe possibly consider forgiving him for what he did, for hiding it from him all these years. He's ready to lose Edgar (not ready, expecting, rather?) over this because he can't let Edgar do this without knowing the truth.
But Edgar stops him, cuts him off with a quiet, "I know."
"I know already. I figured it out a long time ago, Curtis. Why else would they have given me to you to look after? There were plenty of parents on board the train - Tanya, Andrew, others - who could have taken me in, and you were only a kid yourself back then. So why else? Plus, you get this look whenever I mention her like I just punched you in the gut."
Curtis forgets how to breathe for a long, long moment, just stands there and stares. Edgar's known all this time? He doesn't know everything, he's sure, but he knows enough for now and that's like someone lifting the weight of the train off his chest. "I'm sorry," he says, "I know that doesn't... doesn't change anything, make up for anything, but I am."
"Just come with me," Edgar asks, drawing Curtis out the front door.
Curtis follows, squeezes lightly on the hand that catches his again.
There's a part of him still thinks that this is all a dream, so he's not sure what to expect when he walks outside. The backyard had been green and warm, but outside of that haven, he knows nothing. There's some small part of his brain expecting the frozen wasteland they've spent the last two decades avoiding to be beyond the front door, but there's no snow on the other side, just green grass and a clear, blue sky. It... doesn't really look like anywhere in particular, just like a standard cluster of cookie-cutter houses that, like the house itself, vaguely reminds him of where he'd grown up. He can smell the ocean nearby, too, all the smells of summer in the air.
Edgar leads them through a maze of neatly arranged neighborhoods, though Curtis has no idea how he knows where he's going. They pass people, strangers, all happy and smiling and content in this weird utopia they all seem to have found. They pass whole families spanning generations, they pass couples, they pass giggling children, they pass an old lady walking a considerable legion of dogs.
"We're here," Edgar says, when they've been walking for a good while and it's beginning to get dark. The house they stop in front of looks just like all the others, all vaguely familiar looking but foreign at the same time. This one is on the end of a row of houses. "This is it."
Edgar's grip on his hand is painfully strong, now, but Curtis suspects it's only to hide how much he's shaking. They seem to be stalling again, too. "I'm with you," Curtis promises, even though facing her is a more daunting task than facing Wilford ever seemed.
Slowly, Edgar edges them closer to the door. He finally makes it that far, and it swings open before he can even raise a hand to knock. "Edgar," a young woman breathes, sweeping him into a crushing hug. "You've gotten so big!"
"Mom," he chokes out.
She drags Edgar inside, ushers Curtis in with a wave and shuts the door behind them before she tackles her son with another long, long, long hug. "I missed you so much."
Curtis hovers awkwardly in the background, trying hard not to let his presence here take away from this moment.
"I missed you, too."
Her eyes land on him, eventually, when she reluctantly releases Edgar from her arms, and there's a glimmer of recognition there, behind her tears. She knows, Curtis thinks, she knows it was him and he dreads what will come next. "Who's your friend, Edgar?" She asks.
"Mom, this is Curtis," Edgar blurts out, hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "Curtis, this is my Mom," he cuts himself off though, turns to look at her with a deep frown on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name," he admits, and Curtis feels that stab of guilt twist in his chest again for taking so much away from him. They could have been a real family if he hadn't snatched it away from them before they even had a chance.
But she only smiles at her son, drags a hand to smooth through his messy hair, "Evelyn," she tells him. "It's Evelyn."
"Evelyn, then," Curtis echoes, dares to reach out a hand in nervous greeting. "It's nice to meet you."
She smiles at him, too, though, and pulls him into a hug. "Thank you for watching out for my son," she says, which was not anywhere on the lengthy list of things he was expecting to hear.
'I'm sorry,' is on his lips again, but the clatter of footsteps on stairs distracts him. Who else is here?
A young girl, in her early teens maybe, appears at the bottom of the stairs, glancing in confusion at the strangers she finds gathered there by the front door. "Mom?" She asks, an eyebrow raised toward them. "Who's this? Why are you crying?"
Evelyn wipes her eyes and clears her throat. "This is Edgar," she says, and the girl's eyes blow wide with recognition. "Edgar, this is your older sister, Liz. She, she didn't make it on the train with us. Your father is here, too, he died before you were born - he's not home right now."
Once again, Edgar ends up caught in a crushing hug, this time from the sister he didn't know existed. Curtis looks on silently.
"My little brother's older than me," she teases, with tears in her eyes, too. She barely comes up to his shoulders. "Glad you're here," Liz cries into his shirt. Edgar looks vaguely panicked.
Curtis slips back, toward the front door. He'll make a quick exit, leave them alone to be a family. He's not part of it and he knows that, could never be a part of a family that he had a hand in tearing apart. Surely, Edgar will want to be with them now that they've been reunited. He won't want to stay with him. He has a family, a mom, a dad, a sister. Who knows what kind of extended family there is around this place?
"Where do you think you're going?" Evelyn calls him out just as he gets one hand on the door.
He doesn't have an answer.
"Stay," Edgar insists.