Actions

Work Header

She doesn't get it.

Summary:

Cary (and by proxy, also Kerry) have a tendency to draw those around them into their sibling arguments, with the added irritation that the only side of the argument anyone else can hear is Cary's side. To most, in the weird world of Division headquarters and their growing supply of mutants, this fades into the background with all the other spectacle. To Clark...it is an added irritation on the list of things.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

[I don’t get it.]

Cary looks up from his project exasperated, allowing a small sigh to escape before realizing he should recover his patience. It’s been a long day. He unplugs the power tool and sets it in a safe place away from flammables. Clark looks up from his book and coffee from in the corner for a moment. If anyone was observing him, they could notice his eyebrow twitch in a loss of repose. It’s been a long day for all of Division three, actually. David had decided he would make himself hard to find. This was not unexpected, but with a team of hundreds of capable mutants and humans alike, they were still no closer to David. Defeat spread over him as he regains all the worry that was building up before and wonders if David is watching the lot of them scramble to no avail. That’s what he would do, anyways, if he were David. Adding another card to his hand. As if he needs more. Listlessly, Clark thumbs over to the next page and his eyes glaze over as he once again dissolves into daydreams that concern not the problems of himself, thanks to the help of words on a page.

“You don’t need to get it!” Cary coughs quietly. “Ahem. You don’t need to get it.” Clark is ripped back into reality with much annoyance. However, he stores irritation away for later and gets back into it.

[Why not? Why shouldn’t I be able to get it? You get it.]

“I mean, sure, but…..why do you want to? It’s not your thing.” Cary leans back and puts his forehead in his hand with quiet resignation. [What if I want it to be my thing? You’re not the only one who can do science ‘n stuff, old man.]

“You know I hate it when you call me that. We are the same-” He clasps his hands together tightly. Cary has developed the ability to store kindness and compassion away for situations like this. This backup stash is reserved only for Kerry, perhaps out of favoritism, though it’s undoubtedly true that no one uses more of his patience than Kerry does. “Alright. I can teach you if you want. But let me finish this first, please? We’re trying to find David, and, and-”

Cary Loudermilk may be adept at stepping back and recovering lost stoicism, but Clark is not. Without realizing he could simply relocate himself and his leisure activities to a different room, he hides daggers in between his words. “Hey, Cary, what’s up, bud?” He grits his teeth coldly. Cary starts involuntarily, forgetting that Clark was even there. It’s doubtful whether he would have toned down the whole ‘talking-to-himself’ thing he’s become so known for with that information. It’s become a part of his life, as normal as walking. It’s how they work. He’s aware that no one save a handful of psychics in their employment can hear the second voice that lives in his head. But it doesn’t factor. It comes naturally to them. He talks, she talks back. It grates some people, most especially people like Clark who resent environmental disorder in every fashion and form of it. Melanie doesn’t mind at all. She never has. Oliver didn’t either. Not clear whether he even took the time to notice their ‘predicament’ anyways. David, he assumes, was able to hear Kerry as well, though he never asked and never really wanted to.

“Ah! Hello, Clark. H….how long have you been there again?” Apprehensively, he adjusts his glasses on his face. [Who cares?] “Hey, I care...”

“You what?”

 

“Oh, sorry. Response.”

Clark shuts his book sharply and takes a sip of his coffee to pad the moment. His eyebrows are uncreased, though, as he slowly decides not to care so much. What good does it do him, anyway? It took him a while initially to accept their condition. One body, two paychecks. Classy situation. Suddenly most of the exasperation leaves his mind as compassion creeps up on him. It’s been a long few days, actually. He chuckles and sips his coffee earnestly this time. It tastes bad, but it’s free for employees. His eyes soften. “How’s Kerry?”

Cary sighs and nods his head softly. “She’s alright. Being herself.” [Rude.]

“She doesn’t like the world outside, huh?” Cary laughs, and Clark’s not sure he’s heard him do that before. It’s a goofy laugh. In all honesty, Clark hasn’t paid much attention to the pair at all, among the many other things he keeps his eye on at Division Three. They’re interesting, of course, and he doesn’t carry a distaste for the two. But they keep to themselves for the most part. Often times, the interactions between them have been the small moments where Clark enters Melanie’s office only to catch Cary leaving hurriedly and whispering quietly but calmly to himself as he passes.

 

[...It’s not like that.] “It’s not that simple. It’s, uh…” Cary waves his hand dismissively and adjusts the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know how to explain it. Hm.” He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. It’s not initially clear to Clark why he seems surprised mid-sentence until he follows Cary’s gaze to the other side of the room.

“It’s just how we do things.” Despite seeing her before hearing her, he still expends a large amount of energy to suppress a startled jump once Kerry speaks. It’s an unfamiliar voice attached to a familiar face. Even in the rare occurrences where she does make an appearance, she keeps quiet. Often because she’s focused on the action at any given moment

After the initial shock, he manages a genuine smile. “Hi, Kerry.” Her top lip seems ready to curl, and her body is pressed forward as if she is ready to retort him as soon as he says something she can quip back to. She opens her mouth to start the objection, but a smile from Clark easily erases most misinformed objectives.

“Hey, Clark.” She shrugs and looks to the floor nonchalantly, but she blushes slightly. “I heard you’re still looking for David. I told Cary I could help, but…” Cary sighs.

“...I told her there was nothing-”

“I could do?!” She scoffs. “I can do-”

 

“Plenty, plenty, but-”

“Not good enough.” Kerry bites the inside of her lip in anger and presses closer to the wall. She looks straight at Clark who watches with intent, leaning his hands on the head of his cane. Clark crosses his legs and with raised eyebrows, he looks back and forth between Cary and Kerry. He raises the unblemished side of his face in a friendly smirk.

“Sorry, it’s just funny, ‘cause I usually only get one half of this, uh…” Waving towards the space between the two, he giggles softly. Cary looks away to hide the rogue on his cheeks. From the other side of the room, Kerry smiles at her counterpart, staring at the side of his turned head with a twinkle in her eye.

[He’s married.]

{I know.}

[‘Kay. Just checking.] Cary sighs.

 

“We could use your abilities I believe. To be clear, the close combat proficiency you seem to exhibit.” Only a few months ago this proficiency was truly a big hazard for the forces of Division as they worked on tracking David and his clique of mutants until at long last they found Summerland. As Clark recalls, Kerry took down several of their men before one of them managed to clip her shoulder. He would wonder and does still if perhaps their odd living situation is not the only abnormality she can boast.

Cary makes a face. It's more concerned than anything, but also a hint frustrated that Clark would let her volunteer into danger like that. Meanwhile, Kerry’s face is plastered with a big, crazy, Kerry-brand grin. Her eyes light up with her.

“Really??” Clark nods and Kerry lets out a rare squeak of excitement.

“Of course, it would be most helpful when we actually find David, though you can practice on the, uh...long string of... cultists leading back to him.” Clark gets up and twists his ankle to the side to try and wake it up again. “Keep in touch.”

By the time he gets that sentence in the air, Kerry’s physical presence is gone from the room, leaving an ever-collected Clark and a thoughtful Cary.

Clark looks at Cary and nods slightly with a reassuring grin as he leaves the room. His cane taps rhythmically down the hall until it can no longer be distinguished.

Cary laughs softly. “Yeah, I know. You'll be fine. I worry...I know what you can do, yes, but you know that last time, Kerry, I ended up heartbroken. I thought…” He chokes up. “Yeah, just be careful for me. Alright?”

[Alright. I will.]

 

[...love you.]

Cary smiled.

{Love you too.}

Notes:

dont worry clark is faithful. daniel is a king we stan
carys just gay