Chapter Text
Suzanne Kalabasas shouldered her bag, brushing dark brown hair from her eyes before turning to her friend and new roommate, “You okay?”
“Fine.” Clara Miller rubbed at her face, “I’m just adjusting to the time change.” her voice was soft, lyrical. The very faintest hint of a British accent, worn away by the onslaught of American culture and voice and sound, rang beneath her voice like a bell, “Where are we going for breakfast again?”
“Juniors.” Suzanne inhaled the cool winter air, “I want to surprise my boyfriend and he always has breakfast at juniors.” She stopped her trek, sighing before she began to fiddle with her hair. Her partner, her new roommate, handed her a hair tie as Suzanne beamed, “Thanks C. How are you always so prepared?”
“A long drawn out history.” She shrugged. Cool green eyes and auburn hair made her a beauty and Suzanne picked up on several people, waking up, spotting the woman and staring blankly at her. Suzanne was midwest made flesh, a jean jacket and pants with a pair of hiking boots. She stared boldly back at the other people who were looking at her with a disapproving look. Nothing scared Suzanne K. Suzie K was bold personified, Suzie was the sort of woman who would wrangle a horse heedless of the creature’s legs aimed at her. She twisted her shoulder, thinking about just how Stanford had done just that while visiting her dad, helping with the cattle before everything hunkered down.
Juniors brick facade and unlit neon sign appeared in the distance. She’d insisted on a walk, enjoying the cool air and pleased that Clara kept pace. The engineering major was also a dancer - the former was a genuine interest and the latter a genuine passion. Clara Miller was a woman of immense contradictions. Dressed in a stylish dark blue parka that set off her flaming red hair, she looked like a socialite descending to podunk nothing. Were Suzie to think about a woman…
Not that Clara revealed anything. She was painfully, painfully secretive. Not shy. No she was bold and demure when needed, but apart from revealing herself to be incredibly smart, Clara kept her cards close to her vest. Suzie couldn’t imagine her raising her voice or defending herself or…
“You’ll like juniors. It’s a regular hangout. There’s Pierre’s down the street, there’s Juniors for the kids. It just gets jumping later. Hello!” She saw Clara follow her in, Suzanne beaming. The place was (what would eventually be called) a nostalgic diner. Faded crome countertops and dark blue booths, the smell of coffee and pine cleaner. Suzie glanced at the counter spotting Flo - the morning waitress creaking her way along the restaurant - before she felt arms wrap around her waist, “Suzie Q!”
People made fun of her for loving Henry Emily. They had since high school when the unassuming shop teacher’s TA had shyly asked her to the spring fling. When she’d asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance people had giggled. He was shorter than most, standing at her height, but strong and she laughed, leaning in to kiss him. The cold air warmed in the doorway of the diner before someone coughed behind Henry, “...Hen?”
“Will!” Henry turned to a heavier-set tall man, “Will, this is Suzie, my lady, my love, my perpetual finacee always and forever…”
(Henry had proposed their senior year, promising that when he found success he’d buy her a ring and a house. She’d laughed and said she’d just be fine with him.)
“Charmed.” He offered her a smooth hand. She noted Will’s fingers were hard and calloused - He’s an engineer too she noted, He’s smooth. He had drawn the eye of Flo and a woman sitting in another booth with a small child. It was something about him, despite his fleshy appearance, something that made him seem mysterious. There was something unnerving about it. Suzie was skeptical, Just like…
(Years later, on her deathbed, she would regret not telling Clara to go, she would regret drawing her forward, she would regret pushing her in front of the man whose whole focus seemed to be on her. Years later, as she died, with the glimpse of the dead and dying of the world beyond…)
Jack K’ (Good Ole’ Jack Kalabasas) was a rancher. She’d seen her fair share of horses and ducks and goats. She’d seen her fair share of cows and there were some - some with a bad life that you could sense. Some that might just be jerks and Suzie would live with the knowledge that out of fear for herself and hers she pushed a lamb (or was she?) to the wolves. She’d tangled with horses, she’d tangled with bucking goats, she’d roped animals but fear appears at the most inopportune moments, moments when people least suspect it.
“What a coincidence.” Suzanne gently tugged Suzanne forward, “I can tell a limey brit from a mile away because my new roommate is also British!” She put Suzanne in front of her, the woman staring upward at William with her red hair falling over her shoulders in ringlets, “Clara Miller…I suppose this is…William Afton!”
William looked nonplussed that his attention had been diverted away from her to the woman in front of him but when their gaze met Suzie stepped back and kissed Henry, who looked confused. He pulled her aside, “...That anxious to get rid of her? C’mon…”
“Will looked like he needed somebody to talk to.”
“Yeah but-” Henry didn’t pull away from her even as the two of them watched Will bow, kissing Clara’s hand demurely. She giggled. Suzie, pleased he didn’t eat her, grinned in return, “She’s British!”
Both of them turned to stare at her before Clara shrugged, “My father was an American diplomat, my mother was a dancer.” Her voice was smooth, lyrical, “A pleasure to meet you Mr. Afton. Where are you from?”
“London.” He smiled, his features smooth, “Well, a bit east of it I suppose.”
“Really.” Clara tilted her head, frowning, “London. How fancy.” She smiled and Suzie studied her confused. Clara’s features went from suspicious to sympathetic, “Lovely area isn’t it.”
“Quite.” Did William look flustered? The two Americans by birth looked confused but Clara wrapped her arms around her before folding them at her side and looking up at William, “What brings you to Utah?”
“The Robotics program.” Henry had clearly stepped in to defend his friend and Suzie put her hands on her hips watching them talk. Both he and Will had said it together, “Will’s a genius in it.” Henry continued to talk, “Guy’s got every professor wrapped around his finger.”
“Really.” Now Clara sounded more interested, “I’m an engineering major myself.”
“You are not!” William’s secretive nature dropped and Suzie laughed. He’d leaned against the table, “You are not Ms. Miller. I refuse to believe it.” he gestured, “You’re too…too…”
“I’m too what?” The woman said in her coat and elegant skirt, “Please, Mister Afton, continue. I’m too…” She pursed her elegantly lacquered lips and she gestured, “Go on.”
“I was going to say “engaging”. Engineering is a boorish hobby for louts and fools like myself.” he bowed, “Not engaging women like yourself.”
“Yes.” She left it there, one single word, and Suzie couldn’t help but chuckle at the faint hint of utter confusion in William Afton’s eyes. She hated herself after that, Henry looked so wounded and William looked hurt and pushed - shoved into a box as Clara lightly laughed and shrugged, “Want to join us for a coffee gentlemen?”
—-
Later, when all is said and done and the world dissolves into a haze of pain for the two houses, both alike in trauma and pain, when William Afton becomes a figure despised, Suzanne Kalabasas turned Emily will remember this breakfast above all others because Clara and William could talk. He seemed determined to please her and she seemed determined to let him. Even Suzanne felt bad after breakfast, the two of them breaking out into the snow just in time to watch the boys behind them.
“Clara-”
“He’s lying about where he’s from.” She gestured, “I can’t believe you shoved me at him.”
She frowned, “He’s lying about being British?”
“Oh no he’s not lying about that. He’s lying about being from London.” she waved a hand, “It’s a small but really noticeable thing if you look for it.” She tied her own hair back in a ponytail, dropping the facade of demure young woman, “I have to give him credit for it, but he’s…” she raised an eyebrow at Suzanne, “Why’d you shove me at him?”
“- Henry’s the kind of person who likes to adopt strays-”
“He’s not a stray.” Clara turned to face her, frowning, “That’s a human being and whatever is going on with him mentally, you ended up tossing me at him.” She frowned, “That’s really terrible Clara. If he was a serial killer or something - what - you’re going to just throw me at him like that?”
“...You don’t understand. When I say Henry adopts strays I mean he adopts strays. Cats, dogs, birds - I worry about it. Will’s the first human I’ve seen and a human’s not a cat you know. William Afton isn’t going to wake up scratching the two of us in our sleep or chewing on the furniture.”
“That’s not funny.” Clara shook her head, “It’s not. He’s a prick and an asshole but he’s…interesting.” She shrugged, “And he’s British and that’s rare in this podunk hick town.”
“Hey!” Suzanne laughed at her own expense and her own fears, “The word is country town! We are a country town!”
Clara’s laugh was musical. She remembered that the most. Musical.
—
“It’s not a third wheel.” Suzie adjusted her earrings. She was in a bright blue skirt and top, swirling, “It’s not. We’re going to see a movie and there might be people there.”
“People like who?” Clara had her hair tied up and a pair of jeans on, one leg tucked under the other, “I really should finish reading this.”
“People.” Henry had begged her to ask Clara to go to the movies with them only so Will didn’t sit at home with his “projects”. Perhaps they really are perfect for each other. Clara had her books - Suzanne worried about her sitting at home with her books and her studying and Henry worried about him sitting at home with…whatever he sat at home with.
“Get dressed. I promise.”
Clara lowered her gaze, “You set me up with someone.”
“I did not!”
“You set me up with Afton.”
Suzanne dropped her hands, “How do you do that?” She rubbed the back of her neck, “How did you read my mind like that?”
“I’m coming down with a cold.” Clara sniffed, “I have the unique gift of being brutally honest and severely observant when sick.” She sniffed, “I don’t want to get him sick.”
“Ah.” She had been looking a little red nosed, a little stuffed up as Suzanne’s mother put it. It hit her that she’d heard coughing the night before, “...I guess I’ll tell him not to expect you.” She sighed, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
In the weeks since their first introduction Clara had formed the opinion that William Afton was hiding something, a creature buried in the tall grass staring out everyone. When Henry had related to Clara Will’s boldness and how he’d slowly descended into depression she had felt that same pull Henry did.
”You know.” Henry had her head in his lap, “Will should be an actor. He’s only happy when he’s on stage.”
“That…is a great explanation for the way he is.” Suzanne laughed, “Truthfully.”
Without a stage, an audience, and a collection of individuals to lift him to the heavens like a Greek God, he wilted. She sighed, studying poor Clara before rising, “I’m telling Henry I can’t go.”
“Suzie no…”
“Yes.” Suzie moved to their phone, “I’m telling him. Clara, he’ll understand, it-” A knock came from the door and Clara sighed. Timing. She muttered to herself, Timing.
Henry was wearing fancy slacks and a polo underneath his coat. William stood behind him looking sheepish and hopeful, swallowing before stepping back.
“Guys I’m sorry, I can’t leave. Clara’s sick.” she gestured helplessly at the young woman who took that moment to cough heavily into her hand, “And I’ve probably been exposed. Sorry guys.”
Henry beamed, “Feel better!”
“Yes.” William had taken a step back from the door. He hesitated before pulling something from behind him. Flowers.
Suzanne sighed. Endearing bastard.
“Clara? These are- were - are for you.” He paused, “Thank you for agreeing to come out with me. Perhaps we could reschedule when you’re better!”
Clara waved from the couch and smiled, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket, “That sounds lovely!”
The entire encounter became excessively awkward and Henry dragged Will back from the door. Suzanne watched them go with a smile. Turning back to the living room she smiled at poor Clara who - upon closer inspection did look paler than normal. With the startling red hair she looked like a ghost, like a wraith lying on the dark brown couch. Suzanne held up the flowers and Clara smiled, “Very sweet of him.”
“More than sweet. Flowers in the dead of winter must have cost him a fortune.” She smiled at her, “He’s interested.”
“He’s going to have to work for it.” Clara rolled over, “I want the sort of man who’d come in and take care of me.” She languished, “Languishing at my feet.”
“You’ve had guys doing that to you your entire life.” Suzanne sat beside her with a sigh, “What’s …what did you mean about him not being from London?”
“What?” she blinked, “What do you mean?”
“You said he wasn’t from London. You just seemed really amazed by that.” Suzanne rose, “I’ll make you some soup.”
“It’s perhaps - not so important.” She leaned back, “Birmingham’s only about 100 miles from London after all, but his accent’s subtly different and he’s actively trying to pretend he’s speaking “The Queen’s English.” she waved a hand, “I don’t see why everyone is so focused on my mother suddenly. The American preoccupation with the English is hysterically funny.” her features softened, “It’s how my father got my mother to marry him.”
“What happened?”
“Oh. The same old story. They got married, she got pregnant, he cheated, she accepted it because “keep calm and carry on.” and she had me and promptly died.
It was blunt. Suzanne, the recipient of a relatively normal childhood, pulled a pot from below the stove, “I’m sorry.”
“I barely knew her. This is all the result of nannies back in the UK - in London. My father is still there with his second wife and my half brothers and sister.”
“Oh.”
Suzanne shrugged, “It is what it is. He’s paying for school and my rent on this apartment and that’s all I can ask of him.” she settled back, staring at the ceiling, “I’d like him to be more involved in my life but at this point I think we’re just…strangers. Which is fine. I have nice things, I’m able to study what I want, and I’m happy here.”
“Really?” Suzanne smiled, “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Clara smiled, “I only lie to people that hurt me deeply Suzanne. And I know you’d never do that.”
—-
Suzanne sent Clara and William off on their first date with a nervous smile. It was still winter, though the sun was getting brighter and William seemed more engaged and lively. With Clara on his arm he stood up taller and looked healthier.
“I feel like I’m watching our kids go off to school.” Suzanne leaned into Henry, “Look at them! Why are you so anxious about him?”
“What?”
“Why are you so anxious about him? You adopt strays baby. You love adopting things that need you and William Michael Afton is the latest in a long line of creatures you want to nurse back to health. Why?” Cats, animals, rabbits. She’d had to actively put a stop to it and she would when they lived together.
Henry to her chagrin lowered his gaze, “...I went to visit his apartment and it’s just … him and a bunch of animatronics.”
Suzanne blinked, “What?”
“That’s just it. One bedroom, one bath, kitchenette, and …robots. Heads, eyes, arms. It’s a workshop pretending to be an apartment. I want to build too. I want to create more than anything. I want you there to see it. I think that for as much of his bravado - he didn’t notice me at all apparently when we were in class together - as much of his bravado as he has he’s pretending. He’s pretending to fool a lot of people.”
Suzanne thought about Clara’s dictum He’s pretending to be from somewhere else before cupping Henry’s cheek and kissing him softly, “You’re too kind for your own good Henry Emily.” she leaned against his chest, “I’m so happy I have you in my life.”
“Do you think we should leave him alone? Leave both of them alone?”
“Nah.” Henry’s Suzie Q settled against him, “I guess we’re both used to adopting strays.” He settled her in his arms, “...And it would be nice for them to have somebody.”
“They’re both pretending to sophistication while focusing on everything but being human.” Henry shook his head, “I really…” Henry shook his head, leading Suzanne to the couch, “Suzie, Will’s uh - his apartment was unnerving. I think he thinks that robots are easier to talk to than people. Spending time by himself when he’s not on stage.”
“Clara at least has friends. She goes out a lot, we’ve just grown close.”
“Will can’t stop talking about her.” Henry smiled. He leaned into her chest, “He just needs a friend Suz.”
“Just don’t let it be like that cat okay.” she rolled her eyes, “Please. Remember? It peed in every corner of your apartment.”
He smiled.
“Yeah.” He sighed, “Yeah. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
—