Oui! Oui! Marie!

“Oh, you know me so well.” Jack told her, putting a hand over his heart. “Never will alcohol pass by my lips. I’m really a saint, you know that?”

“You’re awful,” said Marie, shaking her head. “Utterly, completely, just awful.”

Daintily, Marie paused to adjust a pink barrette holding back some of her sleek blonde curls. As she did this, she resolutely ignored Jack; mostly, she was searching for a sly comeback, but all she really wanted to do was taste champagne and maybe figure out what made Jack tick. It seemed like an impossible feat, perhaps the only reason Marie was willing to attempt it.

For someone who wasn’t about to feel fear, Marie felt awfully frightened.

“Okay,” she said, and she cleared her throat. She straightened her spine. “You tell me... what to do.”

“Hmm…” Carolyn sighed. She wasn’t surprised. Thomas was a slippery fellow, sly and charming. She liked that about him just as much as she disliked him for it. “I can understand that dahling. It’s not surprising really. What does he owe you? Money?” He owe Carolyn a small fortune truth be told. “Don’t answer that if you don’t want you, you can tell me what you want instead.”

Marie stared down at the tea in her hands. She bit down on her bottom lip, not because she was anxious or thoughtful, but because she was holding back a smile. That’s not right, she thought to herself. She shouldn’t allow herself to smile, so mocking, at the thought of destroying Thomas O’Malley...

But she did. She smiled, and looked at Carolyn with gleaming eyes.

“I want him gone,” she said pointedly. “Far, far away from my family. He’s playing a game with no rules; I can’t be bothered with that. I can only teach him a lesson.”

Brendan would hate her. And mother? Would she?

“Oh, wow, champagne. Nice.” He said sarcastically, but it was all playful. Nearly everything Jack did was playful. “I meant more that I can picture you being an angry drunk which could very well make people scared of you. But then again, getting drunk isn’t mature, don’t you think?” He pointed out.

“You’re cold? In this heat? I wonder how that could have happened.”

“Heat, shmeat,” Marie grumbled. “_I _think I’d be a very happy drunk, mind you, as long as you kept your frosty fingers away from me.”

Marie couldn’t help but smirk. “But I guess we’ll never find out. You’re much too much of a good soul to corrupt me. Right?”

“That’s very kind of you. There’s never enough knowledge, huh?”, he chuckled. How nerd. “I’ll remember that, it would help me with some books. I prefer reading them in their native language so… well, you get the point”.

“Everyone’s naive at some point,” said Marie knowingly, as if she wasn’t naive herself. Never. She was perfect, after all. She smirked a little, tilted her head, and looked at Christopher as if she had never really seen him before; her sapphire eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“How would drinking make you- nevermind dumb question. But yeah that was the whole point of mentioning alcohol in the first place.” He teased her playfully.

Marie let out a squeak as she dusted snow from her shoulders. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes, when they lifted to meet Jack’s, were deadpan.

“How would drinking make me what?” Marie said insistently. “I’m not a lightweight, if that’s what you think. I’ve had champagne on New Year’s Eve before, thank you very much.”

Marie shivered. “Now I’m cold. Honestly, Jack.”

“Sure, it’s a change, but it’s not interesting to me. If you want people to like you, you’re going to have to do better than that, little one. People aren’t going to like you because you’re pretty. They’ll want to fuck you, but not like you. The sooner you become more than just a pretty face, the better off you’ll be.”

For some reason he was giving her advice. He couldn’t place why; maybe it was because she reminded him of Tink, or maybe because he saw a hint of himself and his sister in her rebellious attitude.

Marie nodded slowly. She was pretty? Well, of course she was; she put an awful lot of effort into it, didn’t she? Her hair didn’t curl itself, and her lashes weren’t naturally like that. Nervously, Marie tugged at the gold chain around her neck for a moment before she dropped her hands at her sides.

“I see. I’ll be honest, Brendan doesn’t speak about his family much. He only really mentions that it’s a strained relationship. I’m sure things will get better soon though, now that you’re both here. It can only get better, right?” She offered optimistically before considering her question.

“You mean if Brendan betrayed me? Well then he is to blame. Not my hypothetical children; they had no part in the matter, and as such I’d want to do what’s best for them instead of just…letting them go.”

Marie had never considered the fact that her father might have let them go. She only saw his face, twisted with pain, in her memory. Marie couldn’t possibly blame him, just like she couldn’t find the strength or heart to blame her mother.

“The whole thing is a mess,” said Marie quietly. “But I also don’t want to be the kind of person that people pity; Brendan thinks that, of course. He thinks everyone pities us because of our family, but this kind of stuff happens every day, doesn’t it? Everyone’s got... something.”

Marie sighed. “Sorry, I’m just rambling. Brendan would probably be mad if he knew I was here, anyway.”

The blond’s eyebrows raised at her point and he shook his head. “I’ll tell ya right now, when people are mature people take you seriously like… face to face but not when you’re away. Or they’re afraid of you, either one.” He explained. Or at least that was for him… not that he was ever really afraid of anyone. “I’m pretty sure by sixteen people are thinking you’re absorbed with cell phones and boys,

Marie poked a finger in Jack’s chest. “Actually, I can do without the boys, thank you very much. You all are very good for nothing.”

But then she stepped back and smiled sweetly. She forced the thought of her mother away; she had seen their family disrupted by love more times than Marie could count. She wouldn’t fall for those same tricks. Love was nothing but a bargaining chip...

At least Jack could distract her for the day. “I guess I’ll just have to make everyone fear me, then. Which would probably be easier if I could legally drink. You’re bragging, you know that?”

“The fact that you think that proves you’ve still got so much to learn. “Loneliness is easily fixed. and anyone who says otherwise is pathetic. No one needs to be lonely.”

Scar arched a brow at her. “Many people like me. What makes you more interesting than the rest of them?”

No one needs to be lonely.

Marie swallowed that advice down like a pill lodged in her throat. It hurt, but it almost felt like relief. She knew she shouldn’t trust Scar. It was the worst idea she could fathom, but... he was right, and his words resonated within her, and all Marie could do was keep listening reverently and nodding her head. No one needs to be lonely.

“Me? Interesting?” Marie thought for a moment. “Well. I don’t want anything from you. In fact, I’d prefer to do everything myself. I’m sure that’s a change -- you’re used to people clinging, trying to steal your spotlight for their own gain. I don’t want a damn thing, really. I just want to be good on my own.”

And good was subjective. I just want to be not lonely.

Marie squeaked with laughter and swatted at Jack’s arm. “Hey! When we’re in our forties, you will be jealous of this baby face!”

But probably not. Marie rolled her eyes. “ANYWAY! When you’re mature... everyone takes you seriously. You know? I’m tired of people just throwing my opinion aside because oh, Marie’s a little girl, she’s got nothing but cotton candy and teddy bears stuck in her head. It’s ridiculous!”

Scar rolled his eyes at her as she studied him. He used to do the same thing, except now he was much less obvious about it. She reminded him so much of Vivian and himself when they were younger. She thought she was all that and a bag of chips, but he knew that the circus would only have her for a few months at the longest before she lost it. And he didn’t think that he’d even be the one to make her snap.

“I have no problems admitting it, kid. My childhood was full of fear. But then I grew up and now people fear me. Because fear is power, it’s the easiest form of power.”

“If you can’t make people love you, you can make them fear you,” Marie replied quietly. She sighed, finding it incredibly difficult to look away. She was equal parts horrified and entranced by Scar’s words -- no matter how harsh, they were eerily rhythmic, like the truth could lure Marie to sleep.

“And, for the record, I think a certain degree of loneliness makes you not a child anymore,” she added. “Or pathetic. The loneliest people who still wake up every day are never pathetic.”

Marie finally smiled. “I like you because you’re honest. Just thought you ought to know that.”

“Fine, then I’ll be mature enough for the both of us,” smirked Marie. “But maybe you have a point. I should probably shut up about my age. Then, everyone would just assume I was... whatever age I look. Which is about twelve. God! I’m screwed!”

“You might have claws but you’re nothing more than a kitten, and kittens always run away scared eventually.”

“Every lion was a kitten once,” quipped Marie. “Kittens are smaller. Harder to spot, harder to kill. I’m no one’s entertainment; only my own, usually.”

Marie struggled against the urge to smile. Despite her best instincts, she could imagine Scar around his kitchen, cooking breakfast for Roo. She could see him reading quietly at night -- no, he was probably out, searching for little girls to devour. Gross, stop. Marie’s head was spinning with the idea that Scar would have been a better fit for her life than her own runaway father and -- no, I am not thinking about him right now.

“I’m only scared of being scared,” Marie continued. “I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of that. Though... you’d never admit it, would you?”

“He’s told me bits. I know your mother slept with another man and caused your father to disown you. Which is awful, it really is. For a parent to just turn his back…it’s terrible,” she murmured, before perhaps realising that Marie might not want to know what she thought on the subject. “I’m sorry if that was out of line.”

“You sound like Brendan,” Marie mused, finding it difficult to meet Belle’s eyes once again. The entire topic of conversation made Marie feel as if she were verging on tears, but she had spent one too many years willing her eyes dry. Instead, she only stared intently at her coffee streams of steam slipping up to the ceiling until she could feel herself regaining control. It was one thing to cry alone, but in front of others... that was unforgivable.

“It’s not out of line, though,” added Marie quickly. “But... I have a different view of things. And that’s why Brendan and I can hardly carry a conversation. We love each other in the hardest possible way.”

Marie sipped her coffee slowly, and then set it down on Belle’s desk. “I’m just saying... if you and Brendan shared a home, and a family, and then faced that ultimate betrayal... who would you blame?”

“Tom a manipulator?! Are you serious?!” Brendan let out a cold, hard laugh. “He’s an idiot! Our mom knew we were there, she knew what having a seedy little affair would do, but she was a selfish woman and she ruined our lives!” That was one of the key differences between Marie and Brendan, she hated Thomas with a burning passion. Brendan hated his mother more than words could describe, maybe that was why he didn’t drag her along with him. Because Marie reminded him so much of his mother, it hurt.

“Random people you meet on the street are not friends Marie. If anything, they probably pitied you. Everyone pities us, the fucked up Chaton kids.” Brendan scoffed. “Fuck off if you don’t want to stay. You think some stranger will let you stay for the rest of time? No chance.”

Marie hated Brendan as much as she could love him. As much as she wanted to still the chaos rising within him and sob against his shoulder, she wanted to smash her closed fists against the side of his arrogant skull. As much as she wanted to find what had kept them close as little children, running between each other’s feet, Marie was smart enough to know that their perfect little haven had collapsed. There was nothing left for them to salvage except the broken pieces -- their absent brother, their runaway father, their sinful mother and, of course, Thomas O’Malley. Always Thomas.

“They do not pity me,” Marie said, her voice dangerous. “And don’t you dare fucking say that. No one pities me because I don’t carry myself that way; if you want to brood and be that guy, then sure, by all means, mope about your little family. But me? I don’t... MOPE!”

Marie stormed up. She paced around the couch, searching for something to throw, and instead opted to growl under her breath -- only because she didn’t feel like going home, or begging anyone for a place to stay. Brendan was home, whether Marie hated him or not, whether he was stubborn and whether or not they agreed on any damn thing.

“I do want to say,” Marie then said. “But I don’t want you thinking I’m some sort of charity case. I became an adult the second you walked away from me and Mother. I had to. You have no idea what the circus was like when you left me -- so don’t sit here, telling me that everyone pities me.”