Work Text:
It was the kind of day that was beautiful enough to make grief contrast sharply.
Hinderton Hall was always nervous as he approached his elder sister, loath to set her off. But these days her expression was one of content, resigned to whatever secret lay behind her eyes. She didn’t even seem to notice as Hinderton eased to a halt with a slight screech of his wheels on the rails of the opposite track, a few feet away fromher. “Maindy.”
It was a minute- or maybe two?- before she responded. “Hinderton.” she said, voice dull as her body, scraped of paint, areas marked off for removal.
“How…” When the news of Maindy’s fate had first came, he had everyday asked: ‘How are you doing?’ and ‘I’m just a berth away’ and ‘I’m sorry, I’ll help carry you through it’ until Maindy had eventually gotten sick of his useless attempts at help and snapped at him to leave her alone.
So he was unsure of what to say.
“I had an easy job today,” he began.
“All these tourist jobs are easy,” said Maindy.
“Right.”
There was another pause.
“You don’t have to try and make conversation anymore,” the Hall class said, finally making eye contact with him. Hinderton’s heart sank.
“I do appreciate what you’re trying to do, Hinderton. You’ve always been there, since we got sent to Barry and since i was marked for the rebuild- you’ve never stopped fighting for me.” she paused as tears coursed down Hinderton’s cheek. “And though they couldn’t help, they sweetened the pain- it really does make it almost bearable. But i don’t want to fight destiny and live in pain anymore.
‘There’s no purpouse. I’m going to be…sent for scrap and have to watch you all…die again after living some time here, with all this,” though she was immobile, she seemed to almost gesture to the shared trauma of waiting for death in Barry’s, Hinderton realized, that they hadn’t talked about- and should have, should have exposed the pain before it festered below their consciousness.
We had great times in the West County, remember? You went north- i went south on the branch and mainlines. We had happy memories. And even now, I appreciate them.”
“So why do you want to die?” shot back Hinderton, a storm brewing. “If you let them rebuild you- itno- into this echo of old glory- sure your soul will remain- but none of your memories. Why do you want that?” Maindy paused, but it wasn’t a pause of confusion.
“‘Why do you want to live?”