Samantha "Sam" Moon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thegreatexperiment) wrote2014-07-25 11:03 am
thegreatexperiment) wrote2014-07-25 11:03 am
Entry tags:
Your mommy's all right, your daddy's all right, they just seem a little weird...
She missed airplanes. Not for the flying part, because Sam had always been a little bit of a white-knuckle traveler, but the convenience part. Just another item on the list. Airplanes and Face Time and food that could be bought and paid for. It was a three-night road trip with Karen for her, complete with awkward silence and even more awkward pit stops that left more than one gas station attendant feeling anemic and confused. Until very recently, Karen had spared Sam the discomfort of having to cover up her own tracks with Dominate. But things had to start changing. That was the rule. If Sam wanted to be emancipated, she had to fend for herself.
This last week together? It was Karen's parting gift.
They arrived in Lake Forest somewhere close to one in the morning. Sam hadn't been allowed to tell her parents that they were coming. Something to do with Karen only being able to manipulate fifteen minutes of memory. She cringed a little bit at the idea of showing up unannounced. But then she thought about how excited her parents would be to see her.
Then she cringed more.
As Karen turned onto Sam's old street, she looked across her shoulder to Sam, curled up in the passenger seat. "You don't have to come in," she said. There was a strain in her voice, matching the strain in their relationships. It had been there ever since Karen recognized Sam as the baby she'd taken away from Stephen Zachar sixteen years ago.
That truth had been hard-won and the unanswered questions in its wake led Sam to reply, "Yeah. I do."
She didn't actually think Karen would do something unforgivable to her parents. But she couldn't trust Karen any more. Not when it was no secret that Karen was blatantly and openly lying to her. Well, Karen didn't see it as a lie, but Sam had come to view lies of omission and the withholding of information as the same thing, where her sire was concerned. Helpless to get the truth out of Karen, she would find it in her own way. Again, not a secret. That fact was more like a wall separating the two of them. It meant that Sam wouldn't trust her sire alone with her parents.
In spite of her stubbornness, Karen seemed to get it. She nodded slightly, turning her eyes back to the road. Moonlight framed her silhouette and, for a second, she reminded Sam of the profile of a Roman empress on an old coin.
It was the GPS that drove them up the long, winding driveway of the Halper home. Lake Forest was known for it's sprawling estates and the virtual mansion in which Sam had the bulk of her teenage years was no exception. Set back a ways from the road, it resembled a Tudor home, with broad, brown stripes cutting through the white panels of the outer walls. Karen took a moment to appreciate it, as she put the car into park and the automated lights came on. Sam wondered if Karen could remember actual Tudor houses. She didn't know and she'd asked too many questions that were left unanswered. She was done.
"Let's go over this again," Karen said, pressing her open palms against the rim of the steering wheel.
"Why?"
"Because it's important." She turned to look at Sam. "Isn't it?"
Sam shrank down in her seat, just a little bit. "Yeah."
Satisfied, Karen released her young charge from the full power of her gaze. She pretended to admire the house again, instead. "It's called 'Forgetful Mind,'" she explained for the fifth or sixth time. "What it means is that I'll be able to implant a fifteen minute memory that will seem entirely real. The only thing that could take it away would be if someone else with Dominate--and higher potency of blood than mine--were to try to undo it."
She nodded slightly. "Right."
"You want them to believe that they agreed to let you take a backpacking trip across Europe. That they believe it's a good opportunity for you and that they support the decision."
She felt like there was some implied judgment in Karen's tone, but they'd already fought enough. Sam nodded again. "Yeah."
Karen drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for a second or two. "I think it's a smart move. Much better than what's traditionally done."
"What's that?"
"People just...disappear."
Sam shook her head. "I don't want that."
"Nor should you. And with all the talk about dropping the Masquerade, mysterious disappearances aren't smart."
She narrowed her eyes a little bit. "It's not about the fucking Masquerade, Karen. These are my parents. Okay, maybe they didn't give birth to me or whatever, but they fucking saved me from the fucking system." She couldn't help but let her resentment leak out. It was Karen's fault she'd been in the system in the first place. And sure, Karen insisted she'd done the right thing. That Sam's upbringing would have been fifteen times worse if she'd been left with her bio parents.
But she could have done so much better!
They'd already had that fight, of course. And Karen didn't look like she had the energy to go into it again. "You don't want them to miss you."
"I don't want them to hurt."
Although she nodded, Sam wasn't entirely convinced that Karen understood. Did Kindred know how to love? The idea that they couldn't was terrifying. Especially since it could be her future. Would be, if it was true. And she'd rather take a short walk out into the morning light than...
Best not to think about it.
"Samantha," Karen said gently. Sam raised her hackles. Karen was always the most soft-spoken when she was about to scold. "You had a good human life. With what appear to be affluent and generous parents."
The past tense felt like a knife. "Yeah."
"Why do you need to know about the ones who brought you into this world?"
It was a question that Sam had been battling with, pretty much her entire life. Or existence. Or both. But Karen hadn't asked her before. And she stumbled a little as she tried to put the feeling of emptiness into words. "At first, it was because I wanted to know where I came from."
"I've told you about the experiment."
"Yes. And now I need to know why."
"Why."
"Yeah."
"Why they created you."
"Exactly."
Karen pressed her lips together. "I'd tell you if I could, Samantha. And save you the trouble of finding them."
"So tell me."
"I can't."
Can't, or won't? The question Sam was struggling with, almost nightly. She wouldn't ask another time. "You'd do the same," she said instead. "If it were you."
"I don't know," Karen replied. "Perhaps. But it doesn't matter. I'm not you. You're you. And you will do what your nature requires."
"Yeah."
Karen unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door without further discussion. Surprised by her sudden exit, Sam had to scramble to pull herself out of the car. She felt a flurry of uncertainty as she followed Karen up the winding path to her own front door. Like someone walking on her grave. Like she knew this would be the last time she ever saw her parents.
Or anyone she could call a 'parent.'
This last week together? It was Karen's parting gift.
They arrived in Lake Forest somewhere close to one in the morning. Sam hadn't been allowed to tell her parents that they were coming. Something to do with Karen only being able to manipulate fifteen minutes of memory. She cringed a little bit at the idea of showing up unannounced. But then she thought about how excited her parents would be to see her.
Then she cringed more.
As Karen turned onto Sam's old street, she looked across her shoulder to Sam, curled up in the passenger seat. "You don't have to come in," she said. There was a strain in her voice, matching the strain in their relationships. It had been there ever since Karen recognized Sam as the baby she'd taken away from Stephen Zachar sixteen years ago.
That truth had been hard-won and the unanswered questions in its wake led Sam to reply, "Yeah. I do."
She didn't actually think Karen would do something unforgivable to her parents. But she couldn't trust Karen any more. Not when it was no secret that Karen was blatantly and openly lying to her. Well, Karen didn't see it as a lie, but Sam had come to view lies of omission and the withholding of information as the same thing, where her sire was concerned. Helpless to get the truth out of Karen, she would find it in her own way. Again, not a secret. That fact was more like a wall separating the two of them. It meant that Sam wouldn't trust her sire alone with her parents.
In spite of her stubbornness, Karen seemed to get it. She nodded slightly, turning her eyes back to the road. Moonlight framed her silhouette and, for a second, she reminded Sam of the profile of a Roman empress on an old coin.
It was the GPS that drove them up the long, winding driveway of the Halper home. Lake Forest was known for it's sprawling estates and the virtual mansion in which Sam had the bulk of her teenage years was no exception. Set back a ways from the road, it resembled a Tudor home, with broad, brown stripes cutting through the white panels of the outer walls. Karen took a moment to appreciate it, as she put the car into park and the automated lights came on. Sam wondered if Karen could remember actual Tudor houses. She didn't know and she'd asked too many questions that were left unanswered. She was done.
"Let's go over this again," Karen said, pressing her open palms against the rim of the steering wheel.
"Why?"
"Because it's important." She turned to look at Sam. "Isn't it?"
Sam shrank down in her seat, just a little bit. "Yeah."
Satisfied, Karen released her young charge from the full power of her gaze. She pretended to admire the house again, instead. "It's called 'Forgetful Mind,'" she explained for the fifth or sixth time. "What it means is that I'll be able to implant a fifteen minute memory that will seem entirely real. The only thing that could take it away would be if someone else with Dominate--and higher potency of blood than mine--were to try to undo it."
She nodded slightly. "Right."
"You want them to believe that they agreed to let you take a backpacking trip across Europe. That they believe it's a good opportunity for you and that they support the decision."
She felt like there was some implied judgment in Karen's tone, but they'd already fought enough. Sam nodded again. "Yeah."
Karen drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for a second or two. "I think it's a smart move. Much better than what's traditionally done."
"What's that?"
"People just...disappear."
Sam shook her head. "I don't want that."
"Nor should you. And with all the talk about dropping the Masquerade, mysterious disappearances aren't smart."
She narrowed her eyes a little bit. "It's not about the fucking Masquerade, Karen. These are my parents. Okay, maybe they didn't give birth to me or whatever, but they fucking saved me from the fucking system." She couldn't help but let her resentment leak out. It was Karen's fault she'd been in the system in the first place. And sure, Karen insisted she'd done the right thing. That Sam's upbringing would have been fifteen times worse if she'd been left with her bio parents.
But she could have done so much better!
They'd already had that fight, of course. And Karen didn't look like she had the energy to go into it again. "You don't want them to miss you."
"I don't want them to hurt."
Although she nodded, Sam wasn't entirely convinced that Karen understood. Did Kindred know how to love? The idea that they couldn't was terrifying. Especially since it could be her future. Would be, if it was true. And she'd rather take a short walk out into the morning light than...
Best not to think about it.
"Samantha," Karen said gently. Sam raised her hackles. Karen was always the most soft-spoken when she was about to scold. "You had a good human life. With what appear to be affluent and generous parents."
The past tense felt like a knife. "Yeah."
"Why do you need to know about the ones who brought you into this world?"
It was a question that Sam had been battling with, pretty much her entire life. Or existence. Or both. But Karen hadn't asked her before. And she stumbled a little as she tried to put the feeling of emptiness into words. "At first, it was because I wanted to know where I came from."
"I've told you about the experiment."
"Yes. And now I need to know why."
"Why."
"Yeah."
"Why they created you."
"Exactly."
Karen pressed her lips together. "I'd tell you if I could, Samantha. And save you the trouble of finding them."
"So tell me."
"I can't."
Can't, or won't? The question Sam was struggling with, almost nightly. She wouldn't ask another time. "You'd do the same," she said instead. "If it were you."
"I don't know," Karen replied. "Perhaps. But it doesn't matter. I'm not you. You're you. And you will do what your nature requires."
"Yeah."
Karen unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door without further discussion. Surprised by her sudden exit, Sam had to scramble to pull herself out of the car. She felt a flurry of uncertainty as she followed Karen up the winding path to her own front door. Like someone walking on her grave. Like she knew this would be the last time she ever saw her parents.
Or anyone she could call a 'parent.'