Work Text:
Mountains of stacked notes lay out on the table; some of the notes were neatly written, while others were more sporadic. Thomas Morose, a curious fellow of great wit, was going over the research notes he and his wife, Samantha, had written. Thomas squints at the tiny text, holding the paper so close that it nearly touches his nose. He loves Samantha just as she is, and would never dream of changing her- but he would like for her to write bigger.
If only Sam was here to help him- or remember where he put his glasses -because he’s fairly certain he re-read the same line four times now. Besides, he couldn’t go looking for his specs right now for Sam has tasked him to look over Victor and Ruth while she was out. Thomas feared what might happen if he were to leave the room for even a millisecond. He’s still trying to get the grape jelly off of the ceiling the last time he left those two alone- and it was only for five minutes.
He sets his paper down to look over at the little troublemakers. Ruth is wearing a handmade paper crown with a big heart drawn in red crayon. The crown is much too big for her head, it keeps slipping off and Ruth has to keep adjusting it. An audience of dolls lays out before her, sitting in a cardboard box covered in poorly drawn hearts. Standing alongside her is her younger brother Victor, who is holding a doll with blonde hair and blue eyes- it had a different name before but Thomas recalls Ruth renaming it to Alice. It appears they were reenacting a scene from the book Sam read to them last night.
Thomas tries to go back to reading his notes, but his mind keeps shifting back to the two children. His eyes kept glancing back over to them as he tried to read. Victor’s creative and stubborn attitude reminds Thomas of Sam, and Ruth’s curiosity and quick wit reminds Thomas of himself. Ruth seems to tell Victor something, causing the little boy to cross his arms and pout. Victor even pouts just like Sam. Thomas tries to concentrate on the words, but Ruth’s laugh interrupts him. Her laugh sounds exactly like his own- just a little more high pitched and feminine.
It made Thomas feel strange, as if there is a swirling vortex inside his chest. He’s not sure how to even begin describing it. It certainly isn’t hatred. Victor and Ruth may drive him up a wall but he doesn’t hate them. Thomas would even say he’s fond of them. It’s just the constant reminder that they are not his children that greatly upsets him.
He doesn’t remember what Victor and Ruth’s original names were, it’s been so long. Only their last name, Moreau, is still vivid in his mind, shining like a bright beacon in the middle of a dark sea of memories. Their parents, Sophia and Jacques, were not only next door neighbors- they were people Thomas might have even considered to be his friends. They were good people, and so open-minded too. It’s a real shame of what happened to them.
Neither Thomas or Sam wanted it to happen, but what other choice did they have? If they didn’t do what they had to do, all of their life’s work would have been destroyed. He and Sam tried to get them to see reason- they really did -but they wouldn’t listen. They called him and Sam monsters, and what they were doing was wicked and wrong. It saddened both him and Sam to be called that. They were so certain Sophia and Jacques were different from the rest, and that they would understand. Unfortanely, that didn’t happen. God, he can still remember their faces. There was so much blood. Thomas shut his eyes, not wanting to remember this anymore.
Once it was done, it was only then did they remember about Sophia and Jacques’ children: Victor and Ruth. Thomas wanted to leave them at an orphanage, but Sam had other plans. She insisted they take them in and raise them as their own. She said it was for Sophia and Jacques’ sake, as a way to make up for what they had to do to them. Even to this day, Thomas isn’t sure why he agreed. He’s not even sure if he regrets it or not.
Sometimes, just for a little while, Thomas can trick himself into thinking they are his children. For just a few short moments, he can pretend that he is their father and be happy- but soon the daydream ends, shattered by reality. It’s why Thomas can’t bear to look at them sometimes. He knows it’s not their fault; they have done nothing wrong- but it hurts so much. Thomas isn’t sure how much more his heart can take this torture.
His thoughts are interrupted when he feels a tiny hand tug at his sweater. He looks over to see Ruth, gripping his sweater in one hand and a headless doll in the other. Her paper crown, which now has some rips and tears, rests crookily on top of her messy white hair- a messy white hair that Sam has tried to tame so many times that she has given up. She holds up the doll, a wide toothy smile spread across her face.
“Alice needs a new head.” Thomas simply blinks as he studies the doll.
“So she does.” He nods.”A doll that’s missing her head would need to get a new one.”
“Come help us pick out one for her.” She tugs on his sweater, urging him to follow. “I want to give her a rabbit’s head, but Victor wants it to be a turtle. A rabbit’s head is much better, don’t you agree?” Thomas frowns. He motions her to leave, returning his attention back to his work.
“Maybe some other time.” He picks up his notes again, tapping them against his desk until they are all neatly aligned. “Have Victor help you.”
“But you always say that!” She stomps her feet, jumping up and down. A large frown replaces her toothy smile. “Always, always! Why can’t you play with us now?” She grabs hold of his sweater once again, and tugs on it- this time with greater force. Thomas is certain he heard a rip.
“I said some other time.” Ruth lets go of his sweater. Tiny tears roll down her cheeks as her bottom lip trembles- a tiny hiccup escapes her mouth. Oh no. “I,” His heart aches at the sight of her. He didn’t mean to make her cry. “I’m sor-” Ruth runs off before Thomas could finish his apology. He can hear her tiny feet stomping down the hall, followed by a loud slam of her bedroom door. Victor, who was too busy looking at the dolls to notice what happened between Thomas and Ruth, didn’t look up until he heard the door slamming. He stands up from the carpet and follows after her.
“Ruthy wait for me!” He shouts with his little arms stretching out.
Now Thomas was alone, with only the piles of paper to keep him company. He lets out a loud groan as he rubs his face. How could he do that? He didn’t mean to snap at her, he truly didn’t, and now because of him Ruth is crying. He wishes Sam was here, she’s better at handling the children when they’re upset. Unfortunately, Sam is out doing errands, so he’ll have to handle this on his own. Taking a deep breath, Thomas rises up from his desk and heads towards Ruth’s room.
Victor is standing in front of the door, knocking on it and calling out “Ruthy” over and over. Thomas crouches down, meeting his eyes to Victor’s level.
“I think you should go to your room for a while.” He suggests. Victor shakes his head.
“I want Ruthy!” He stomps his foot and pouts just like his mother just like Sam. Already knowing Victor’s stubborn nature, Thomas gives in. Sighing, he picks him up- holding Victor in one arm -and knocks on the door.
“Ruth?”
“Go away!”
Thomas opens the door anyway and goes in. Ruth is hiding under a nest of blankets; she is curled up like a ball and has her face against her pillow, muffling her cries. Quietly, he sits down on the opposite end of her bed; he sets Victor in his lap. He watches Ruth, her tiny body moving each time she lets out a sob.
“Ruth, I’m…” Thomas sighs. He scratches the back of his head. Why does his throat feel so dry? Why is it so hard to just get his words out? “I’m, I’m sorry.” Unsure of what else to do, he hesitantly puts his hand on her hand in an attempt to comfort her.
Ruth slowly emerges from her blanket nest. Her white messy hair is even messier than usual, and her eyes are red from crying. Thomas feels his heart ache once again. He motions her to come over, and she scrambles towards him, enveloping him in a big hug. It takes Thomas a few moments for him to hug her back, giving her a small pat.
“Ruthy!” Victor reaches towards her with his little hands. Ruth grabs one of his tiny hands, holding it tightly. Her wide toothy grin returns at the sight of her little brother. Seeing this made Thomas feel warm inside, putting a smile on his face. For a moment, Thomas almost made him believe that they were his family- but he quickly wakes back up from that dream. He knows that no matter, they can never be truly his children- and that fact makes his heart ache once again.