The Physician

Time: August 8th

Place: The Cider Factory

Status: Closed for @zachariahforester

Samuel was fiddling nervously with the heavy set of keys of the Factory, a feeling not unknown to him. He’s been standing outside, looking at Zachariah next to him, and with a timid, yet nervous, smile, he finally opened the door for what might be the last time.

“So..” he opened the lights, brightening his makeshift office. He couldn’t help but chuckle thinking about how his oldest brother might react, as he gestured him to step inside. 

A wave of memories flooded his brain; Benny, and his never-ending flood of  questions. Marian’s delight when she was presented with the soles. Father Valentin and the look of both surprise and wonder on his face. The moments he spent here with Ira. All the people coming and going through his office, and the pride he felt helping them all. It all made sense. Yes. This is what is meant to be happening.

“You know what they say: It’s only a humiliation if you don’t take it as a compliment,” Ira winked. And yes, it was a little forced because no, he really wasn’t in a mood for joking. But it felt just as wrong not to. He did not want, no, he couldn’t leave everyone with a bitter taste in their mouth. He needed to leave them with a feeling of closure, with the reassurance that it was all okay, that they were on good terms. Or at least not on bad terms.

Maybe that was why, even if the knew that ‘being happy for someone’ wasn’t all that could be done, thus wasn’t enough, he did not insist. He nodded. “It is. It is enough.” But he didn’t say it to Zachariah. He said it to Sammy, with a look akin to: Tell him. Do this right, make up, don’t let me leave worried.

And then Zachariah – the Zachariah Ira had earlier accidentally called Zach – made a joke. A joke only the two of them could understand, and despite himself his heart did a little bound of joy. He crossed his arms once more to contain it. “If I win, I want an invitation to your dinner table. As a guest.”

When the question turned to whether Ira and Sammy would keep in touch, however, Ira let his gaze sink to the floor. This was not his choice, not his decision to make.

@samuelforester​

-

Samuel listened to his brother and Ira bicker, his gaze - growing more worried as Ira kept prodding Zach, and Zach getting redder in the face - going back an forth between the two, feeling like he was stuck in the middle of something that he started. Ira’s look made his heart sink even further. “Zach.. Of course it’s enough.” His instincts told him to thank Zachariah for his acceptance, but he couldn’t form the words on his tongue, realising that Zach’s forced tone mirrored slightly in his own words, and despite trying to bring a warm smile to his face, he felt his teeth grinding a bit against his cheeks in anxiousness. 

He fiddled with the skin around his nails to calm his nerves, and with a more genuine small smile on his face he now listened as his brother and Ira were agreeing on something, and the feeling of panic that rose in his chest, despite his best effort to qualm it earlier, subsided. 

“You’re going home” he didn’t know much about Ira’s family, but the way he envisioned them, warm and loving, made Samuel a bit happier knowing that at least he was going somewhere safe. “It better be for good reasons” he tried to keep his tone playful, as he returned Ira a similar wink to the one that was thrown his way earlier. 

He stepped back and turned fully to stand in front of Ira, hoping to bring his gaze up to him. He needed to tell him before he left, even though he knew that Ira, smart and clever Ira, knew it already. “I’ll miss you” he whispered, hopefully quietly enough so that Zach would not hear. 

With his back still turned, and his eyes on Ira’s face, he replied, voice louder this time “I sure hope we do”, and in his eyes he hoped Ira will see that he meant it. He twisted toward Zach. “I’m.. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. About the Factory and the supplies and everything. I truly am. I should have told you sooner, but there’s no excuse as to why I didn’t earlier. I guess I was just scared.”

His eyes roamed to the doorway, where Ira stood, and his eyes lit up in determination. “We’ll be back in just a moment” he said, casting an apologetic look to Zach, and once more grabbing Ira’s hand and dragging him to the corridor, away from his brother’s eyes. He pressed a chaste kiss to Ira’s lips, probably for the last time. “I’m sorry. For everything.” and his free hand went to Ira’s chest, where his heart was “please stay in touch” his lips twisted upward “I need to know all about that white suit”. He let his gaze wander to the floor and with a quick breath he added “andIloveyou”.

zachariahforester​:​

He listened. He heard. He tried to understand what this meant. He hadn’t seen it coming. How had he not seen it coming? His first feelings were anger and disappointment, and hurt. That Sammy had kept it a secret, that Sammy hadn’t confided in him, that he was only doing so now because he’d been forced into it by the meddling insufferable ex-fucking-footman. He glared at Ira, jaw clenched.

But Sammy continued, and Zachariah saw the small smile, heard the hope in his voice. His anger crumbled around the edges. The hurt remained.

“How could you do something so- so irresponsible? And dangerous!” Practising medicine without any formal training, like it was some kind of hobby. “And selfish!” He stopped at his own words. No, not selfish. Sammy had done it to help others, that’s what he’d said, to help the people who couldn’t afford professional treatment. Zachariah ducked his head.

“Well, regardless, it all seems to have worked out, you’re getting what you wanted by the sounds of it. And I suppose nobody got hurt.” Even the lack of supplies hadn’t ended up being as critical as it could have been. But Lord, he couldn’t believe Sammy had stolen from them. And lied, and sat at that dinner and- ah, well, that made more sense now. “So why are you forcing this all out into the open hm?” He asked, turning the heat of his mixed emotions back to Ira instead. “What’s your motive in all of this?”

Ira crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, watching. It was crude to just force someone to air their secret, but he couldn’t leave not knowing what was going to happen to Sammy. He just couldn’t. Not after he’d done so much damage already. He wanted to leave having done something, at least one good thing. 

At the mention of the Ebenezer, along with that smile that bloomed on Sammy’s lips, Ira narrowed his eyes. So the Tadpole too had finally found his way into froghood. Good. He’d tell his parents, Sammy said, and as scary as it was, he doubted anything was scarier than telling it to the brother they all loved so much. And indeed. Zachariah roared into anger – at first, or at least it seemed that way. A moment later, he had ducked his head and spoke almost sensibly. 

“He’s a good doctor,” Ira said, as quietly and without affection as previously by the door. “Or call him a nurse, if you want. His training was self-taught but it’s worth at least that of a very good nurse.” That too, was a reason why he had wanted to be here for it. “He’s helped so many of my friends. They trust him.” He thought about the maids from Tynthesfield. About how they could’ve never gone to a real doctor. “And he loves it.” He looked over to Sammy again, finally. “Right? You bloody love it?” 

So. What was Ira’s motif? How much of it could he say? “Because you’re one damn lucky family. You don’t deserve to break apart because of some secrets aired at the wrong time by the wrong person for a wrong reason.” 

@samuelforester​

-

Samuel breathed, but kept his eyes on his brother, unfaltering. He did not know what to expect from Zachariah once the secret was out, but there it was, in the open, and Zach sounded more hurt than angry, and Samuel’s heart suddenly felt like a boulder in his chest. He opened his mouth to answer, to justify himself once more, but then Ira spoke instead, spoke of the way he had helped people -his friends- and of his passion, and something stirred in him.

Ira never showed any particular interest in Samuel’s practice, and he couldn’t really blame him for it. After all, their whole ‘relationship’ was not about sharing their private lives, only glimpses of it, and as much as Samuel wanted to explore who Ira was, well.. now it was probably too late. 

He continued looking at Zachariah as Ira talked, the small smile widening bit by bit, his confidence growing along with it. “I do” he nodded and looked to Ira “I truly do”. He remembered their deal from many months ago, back in that dressing room, not to thank him whatsoever. But deals can be broken. His eyes softened and without a sound his lips formed the ‘thank you’ he so desperately wanted to say.

A chuckle bubbled out of him “I suppose that’s true” the chuckle finally gave freedom to a few small tears, not of anguish, but of relief “I’m sorry Zach. I know this might not have been the best way for you to find out, but Ira is right, we are very lucky.” he stepped forward and placed a hand on Zach’s arm “Are you okay? I am aware it is a lot to think about, but I guess some secrets are meant to be aired” he gave his brother’s arm a gentle squeeze and turned back to Ira “I’m glad it was you”.

ira-vaisman​:​

He was led in by Sammy’s hand. Something he had never imagined was possible. Not because of the street’s eyes watching any and every visitor but because, well, did he even still deserve it?

Once in the drawing room, he didn’t sit. How? Without letting go of Sammy’s hand. He glanced from the hands up to Sammy, “Did you tell him?”, then over to Zachariah. “Did he tell you? About what he’s been doing for the last two years?” A beat, and the words: Not me, threatened to slip his lips. He held them back. “About the Cider Factory? About studying medicine?” Eyes back to Sammy. “Because I need you to tell him. I need him to know. I need-… I need to know you’re going to work it out together.” 

@zachariahforester​

Zachariah had halted when Ira had called his name. His names. But he’d only turned back when Sammy had asked it of him. As uncomfortable as it made him, he supposed this was what he was promising wasn’t it, acceptance, even if it was awkward. He had thought they’d want to be alone, but apparently not. His eyes flickered to their held hands, but his expression stayed the same. He nodded, and followed them into the drawing-room.

He didn’t sit either. Chairs seemed inadequate at the moment. He was about to reassure Ira that yes, Sammy had admitted all, and that he didn’t mind, that they could do as they pleased without his interference or judgement. But then the cider factory came up, and studying medicine, and Zachariah’s brow crinkled. His attention turned to Sammy alone, uncaring of what Mr Vaisman needed or didn’t need, only concerned about this apparent two-year secret Sammy had kept from him. “What is he talking about Samuel?”

@samuelforester​ ?? (I think?)

-

Panic. Don’t panic. Panic. Don’t. Panic. His eyes flickered up at Ira, and to his brother, back and forth. He steadied himself. Zachariah took the news about him and Ira well enough, his panic is worth nothing. His panic is what lost him Ira. He closed his eyes and when he opened them they weren’t looking at Zach, but rather at the man beside him. “I.. didn’t. Not yet.” eyes back on Zach, hand squeezing Ira’s a bit firmer. 

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been studying medicine, secretly, by myself. I’ve been doing work and reading all the books I can and I understand it all.” Gaze roaming around the room, the ceiling, the rug. He did not want to see Zachariah’s face. “I’ve been hiding in the Cider Factory.. a secret office. I’ve been treating those who can’t afford to see you or Father. I..” his eyes finally settled on Ira, as if looking at him will give him the courage to admit it all, to the last detail. “I took the supplies from you. But just because I wanted- needed-  to help others!” 

Samuel ran his free hand -he did not dare let go of the other- through his hair and finally looked back at his brother. “But.. but Benny. He said that he’s not going to Oxford anymore” a small apprehensive smile on his lips. “He said he’s taking the Factory and I will get to go instead. Really study medicine. Do what I always wanted to do, Zach!” his voice, which rose in tenacity, finally quieted down a bit “He just need to talk to our parents.” and for once, through all this, there were no tears on his face. No longer panic in his voice when he talked. Determination took their place.

Ah, damn Sam, always so sincere even when Benny was doing his best to make sincerity flee and hilarity fill its shoes. Benny flapped a hand, blew a raspberry, and slung his arm back around Samuel’s shoulders. “Oh please, you’re acting like I’m getting married!” he exclaimed, face still red and overly warm. His flapping, dismissive hand turned into a fan for a moment, wafting air over his own face. “And no matter Zachariah, or mummy, or father’s expectations, I don’t think that’s happening any time soon.” Benny’s flapping, fanning, wafting hand went and tickled Samuel under the chin, distracting, distracting, distracting.

Slow down! Benny couldn’t slow down, not now! He was like Mister Roger Smith and his railways: fast, direct, powerful, toot toot! But it seemed Samuel’s mind was gaining speed, catching up bit by bit.

“Yes, but only because you’ll get to go to Oxford,” he explained quickly as soon as the question came about the Factory. He’d thought that one through, after all. Samuel, Sam, Sammy-Sam-Sammy, he deserved a future, and a legal one, with legal practice, and his name on a brass plate upon a door. Doctor Samuel Forester, of Forester and Sons Medical Practice, or something. He deserved that far more than Benny deserved several years of isolation and confusion over what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, and why he was doing anything that he was when his siblings were far better suited to it.

And then Samuel’s brain did more than catch up – it collided. An explosion of excitement, loud enough to turn the heads of more than just several passers-by. Benny beamed. That was more than he hoped for. That was- was life. Finally, Samuel had come back to life.

“You’re gonna go. Come. Whatever. Okay?” Benny said, grinning, his hands back on Samuel’s shoulders, shaking him, shaking him, like vibrations of excitement transferring along his arms and bouncing around between them. “You’ve got to ask father and mummy for it, once I’ve told them what I’m doing. You’ve got to let them know how passionate you are, how much you want to help. Alright?” No more crying over stolen supplies, no more sickness induced by anxiety over such a massive secret. “And-! If you still want to help people who can’t afford the usual rates then you can, you know, you don’t have to work for father. You could work for a charity, or volunteer, or just be a philanthropist!” Because Benny had thought about that, too.

-

A million little wires of electricity ran through Samuel’s head. Million little wires of thoughts and questions and concerns, and much like what happened when Benny found out about the Factory, he could not help but spew those questions out. “Did you find the owners? What would you do with it? Are you sure? Benny I-” his heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he wondered if Benny could hear it. 

His voice dropped to a whisper suddenly, worrisome taking over. “Benny, what if... what if they say no?” he swallowed “What if my passion is not enough? What if your determination is not enough?” he inhaled sharply through his teeth and breathed a shaky breath out “I don’t even mind not going, you know I’ve come to terms with that, but you.. Benny, I don’t want you to be stuck, I don’t want our parents to deny you of your happiness and opportunities” worry, worry, worry. His mind was always set to worry. He shook his head. “If you’re certain, then I follow you”.

∞

Ivy’s lips had twisted into a thin line. This ass of an owner ignored her and licked Samuel’s shoes. Oh, what the hell. She pouted and shook her head, “better not,” she said. Everything stung her eyes and she forced herself to avert her gaze. She couldn’t spend too much, she couldn’t even drool on it or she’d get kicked out, and she didn’t want to give him any more of her hard-earned money. She just stood there waiting to get her bits and stuffed them into her bag one by one, pausing in the middle to look at Samuel. “What about you? Don’t you want anything?” and propped herself up on the tips of her feet, her eyes still on the shopkeeper, “and thank you,” she whispered. Without Samuel, after all, she would have been lost.

“Shall we just stroll through the streets right now? Or do you know any cool places where we can throw ourselves?”

-

Samuel felt a pang in his heart for Ivy, yet he kept his face smiling. He wanted to offer to pay for some of the things on her list, but he knew that it would only be an insult, so instead he watched the shopkeeper intently, making sure he would not over-charge her for the goods. Ivy’s question suddenly reminded him of a different device in one of the more dusty shelves, something he thought might be a kitchen equipment of sorts. He waited until she would finish putting everything into the bag, keeping an ear in case something was wrong with the things they got, and once she was done he beaconed her towards that shelf. “What do you reckon this is?”. He smiled at her and bowed his head as if to say ‘no problem at all’.

“Actually, Zach!” No. “Forester. I mean. Doctor. Christ. Doctor Forester.” Ira sighed, hands going up to his face to rub his eyes, except he was wearing his sunglasses. His sunglasses. And so his fingers just rudely stumped against glass. “Wait. Please.” 

And only then – only then! – he dared to look at Sammy. It was a shy, almost meek little look, head down, gaze peeking up past the glasses, gingerly. “To Manchester. Maybe forever. Can I-… Can I come in, please?” And for that he looked past the door to Forester again. “I don’t want to leave.  Things unsaid.” 

-

Samuel stood, looking at the man in the simple brown suit, the man who could hardly look at him now, and instead of asking him the many little questions floating in his brain, he took Ira’s hand in his “Y-Yes, of course” and he took Ira with him inside, closing the door behind them, not letting go of that hand. There will be time for questions later, he hoped. He smiled that small smile at him once more before turning back to the house.

Zachariah had not wandered far. “Zach, stop” he called, as he walked a few small steps towards his older brother, Ira’s hand still in his. “Please” Zachariah steps slowed “wait”. And with that Zachariah completely stopped, lingering a few moments before looking back at them.

~

Zachariah’s suspicion turned into a kind of concern. He had never seen Ira like this. It made him realise that, despite the vibrancy of their previous meetings, he likely did not know the man all that well at all.

After everything. He tilted his head to the side. “I couldn’t- I wouldn’t have-” He knew it had been a joke, but the idea that he might have been capable of treating Ira inadequately on purpose still bought a little shame to him. “After all, I am-” he cleared his throat “I am grateful to you as well. For everything.”

When Ira said it, Zachariah realised what had felt odd about the interaction so far. Yes, it felt like a goodbye. “Goodbye? Where are you going?” He heard someone approaching behind him. “Are you going back to St Maur early?” Somehow he knew that was not the case.

Then Sammy was beside him. Zachariah looked at his brother, and then back at their guest. He suddenly felt quite awkward. He cleared his throat once more. “Right ah, I’ll let you two speak then.” It had been Samuel or Benny he’d asked for after all, not him. “I- well, I hope this is not the last time we meet Mr Vaisman.” He nodded his farewell and then retreated back into the house.

@samuelforester​

-

Samuel was deep in his books, as he often did now, though perhaps this was for different reasons than they were at the end of May. Perhaps not. He did not want to dwell on it too much.. Especially not after the masquerade. Something that he was trying to show did not affect him, especially not in front of Zachariah, who didn’t know about Ira’s words, or their... lack of involvement.

In fact, Samuel seemed so invested in this specific book that he missed the door knocks completely, and Ira’s voice did not even register through the walls. It was only his brother’s voice, ‘Mr Vaisman, good day’ that took him out of his concentration. 

He hurried towards the door, hearing the bits of conversation getting louder as he approached. And then he stopped in his track. ‘I’m here to say goodbye’. It took him a moment to register what he said. Leaving. Leaving? He doubled his pace until he reached the door, seeing Zachariah there, and in front of him, in his simple brown suit, stood Ira. 

Zachariah left, something that Samuel both appreciated and dreaded. And then they were there, alone. “Hello, Ira” he smiled softly, sadly, at him. He started taking a step closer, and another, until he was close, not even thinking before he did so. “I-” he shook his head lightly “You’re... leaving” the sentence coming out somewhere between a statement and a question, his hand instinctually reaching to touch him. 

Well, that was a better answer, better than denying there were any intentions at all. But still he felt lost in the dark. He had imagined a future, either nearby or far away, where Samuel would be married, where he would have a sister-in-law, and nieces and nephews. It was not a concrete plan, never something he had defined clearly in his head, just a vague understanding of how the future would play out. An understanding, an assumption, not a hope or a dream, for he had never had any reason to doubt it. Well, until now.

And God Samuel was laughing and crying and thanking him. He wanted to cry too, but he didn’t, he wouldn’t. He saw Samuel step closer, and Zachariah placed a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was an act of reassurance, and affection, or to keep him from coming any closer. Sammy loved him. For some reason the words twisted in his gut. That was all he ever really wanted wasn’t it? Yet even when it was spoken so clearly, he doubted. Not that Sammy loved him, his brother would not knowingly lie to him. He simply doubted he was worthy of it. Or if Sammy still would if he knew everything. 

He cleared his throat, not acknowledging the thanks, nor the return of his love. “Is it- do you-” he cringed slightly and tucked his hands back behind his back. “Do you have any attraction to women or is it only men?” He hoped for Sammy’s sake it was not only the one man. Especially if that man was Ira Vaisman. Especially if that man did not love him back.

-

Zachariah’s hand on his shoulder grounded him, and for a moment he felt all breath release from him. Breath that he felt like he held from the very first sentence of admittance. He didn’t worry about his brother’s lack of responses, rather worrying whether Zach was hiding disgust or disappointment in him. He knew that if he tried telling it to him, Zach would just berate him again. The thought made me huff a small laugh. 

Good! Good, then it was set. That was the plan. Touring. Sight-seeing. Lunch. The Thames. Perfect. Benny patted Samuel on the head, quietly aware that his brother was still somewhat slumped, as he felt shorter than usual. “Great,” he smiled. Anything to help.

-Even suffering embarrassment. Samuel continued to laugh, to tease, and it only made Benny redder. But if the price of his brother’s laughter was his own burst capillaries, it was a price he was willing to pay. “I wouldn’t!” Benny squeaked, knowing he sounded very much like a young boy denying involvement in a prank he had certainly taken part in. “I’d not steal any woman’s- uh- oh, what’s the word? It begins with ‘v’. Vuh- Vuh-” Not virginity! Not vanity! “Vvvvvvuhhh- Virtue! I’d not!” He continued to squeak with protest, very much playing into the character he was constructing for Samuel’s entertainment even as he spoke truth.

Samuel’s response to Benny’s reveal was exactly what he had wished for, and more. He smiled at his brother’s grin, at his enthusiasm.“I’m going into business. I’m going to take the factory. I’ve- I’ve not told our parents yet, but I will – before the Season’s end. But I’m not going to Oxford.” And now, the more, nay, the most important part. “You will. You’re going. I want you to go in my place.” He shook Samuel a little by his elbow. “I want you to study medicine, or- or whatever you want. You deserve it. Okay?”

-

Samuel’s cackles and snorts continued through Benny’s bumbling, and for a blessed moment he forgot his own troubles, forgot why they were here in the first place, and was just happy to share this moment with his brother, a happy moment, long overdue. “I’m sure, Benny” and this time instead of a wink it was elbow to his side. He finally stopped his laughing, but kept a smile on his face “I am glad you found someone, even if briefly” his tone turned more serious “You deserve someone as great as you are, I hope you know that”. 

With a small hop and a clearing of his throat that he hoped alleviated some of the gravitas of the situation he started talking. “So tell-” but then Benny spoke before he could even finish the sentence. “The.. the factory?”. So much information, suddenly, all at once. So many emotions, suddenly, all at once. Benny’s taking the factory, going into business, talking to their parents about it. And then he, going into school, to Oxford! “Benny, I...” he grabbed Benny’s shaking hand, kindly, not forcibly “Slow down” his face changing from furrowed brows, to a confused grin, to a smile, to a tilt of the head. “You’re taking the Factory?” my Factory. No, it was never his, he knew that it was all a momentary secret, it still stung nonetheless.  

Alexander raised his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, looking quite pensive. When he looked back at the lion, he asked with a perfect innocent tone: “Was this a naughty innuendo?” 

He sighed. “As I said, I am looking for my beautiful Princess. I am scared she will flee to a forest and be transformed into a donkey if I don’t find her soon. It’s making me quite miserable.”

-

Samuel sputtered on his drink. He didn’t originally mean it like that, and he could definitely see how that would’ve been intended.. Ira would be proud. “I wouldn’t dare, dear Golden Idol” he flashed another toothy smile, landing a hand on the Golden Visage’s shoulder.

He did not miss that Samuel did not answer his first question. The silence and Sammy’s expression were almost as good as a negative. Ira did not love his brother. Or if he had, he did not anymore.

“I’m not a fool Sammy.” Zachariah chastised softly. He didn’t expect them to announce an Autumn wedding and name their firstborn son after him. “But time keeps moving and we all make choices, so yes, there are always intentions.” People made plans, even if they were vague and hopeful, even if they were mere consolations for what they really wanted.

He thought he probably was mad, but not necessarily about his brother, Lord, both his brothers, being homosexuals. He was more mad at himself for letting Sammy think he was mad. “For Christ’s sake Samuel, this isn’t about me. Think about yourself for 2 minutes will you?” He wiped at his face. It was hard, he thought he had come to terms with it all at the garden party, or thought he would, given a little more time. He hadn’t expected it to be put to the test quite so quickly. And when he looked at Sammy and how anxious he was, all he could see was that horrible night with Benny and all the mistakes he’d made. He would have thought it would be easier to rewrite them now he regretted them, but he supposed it was human to want to take the path of least resistance, and that path of judgement and anger and fear was one he had already cleared. A new one would take some breaking in.

“You’re my brother.” He said at last, quietly, eyes trained on the floor. “And I love you. And I will not be mad at you for something… you did not choose. And I will not stand in the way of your happiness.” Those were his promises. The ones he should have made to Benny as well. They were perhaps not perfect, but he would hold himself to them. If Sammy wanted more from him, well, that would probably take some more time.

-

Samuel allowed himself to smile at his brother’s words, albeit not the happiest of smiles, but a smile nonetheless. “I wish I could tell you the intentions, Zach, I really wish I could. I do not know the answer myself” he let the honest truth out, avoiding eye contact. Not because he was scared of Zachariah’s reaction, but he was scared that if he looked up, the tears that were only held in his throat would escape.

Surprised, Samuel gazed at his brother, a few tears leaving his eyes as expected, and after a moment of silence, a big grin spread on his face, turning into a rolling laughter, mixed with his tears. Zachariah was always berating him for overly worrying, and it didn’t stop even now, when Samuel was so vulnerable, after telling Zach what must have been the biggest secret he held, well, perhaps not as big as the Factory, but close second. “You know I can’t do that” he said through his laughter. 

That seemed to perk Samuel up. Feeling much encouraged, Benny wrapped an arm around Samuel’s shoulders and gave him a bit of a wiggle from side to side. “That’s the spirit!” he said, joyously, though he did tame his usual enthusiasm. He didn’t want to bowl Sam over, after all.

“Well, I thought we’d go and look at, you know, all the buildings and whatnot. And then we need to have lunch, of course. And I thought perhaps we could take a little trip on the river, if you’re up to it? It’s a nice day, after all.” And, at some point, in all of that, Benny was going to reveal his big news, and hopefully get Samuel reading for the sake of preparation, not distraction from whatever was dogging his mind.

If Benny thought he had managed to stir Samuel from his listlessness with the promise of exhaustion, he was proven wrong by the reaction to his brother’s burgeoning love life. He even engaged in the rough-housing that they often did, with pokes and punches and ruffles of hair (though Samuel was still too soft, too slow, to be considered his usual self).

“Not- no, not really,” Benny denied, with an awkward laugh. “No, it’s not- Oh!” he suddenly realised what he may have implied. “Oh, no, she’s not been keeping me up, not like that. Gosh, no, no. We just- No!” By this point, Benny had turned as red as a boiled lobster. “No, no, no,” he repeated, his eyes also upon Samuel’s fascinating rock. “I just- meeting her got me thinking, is all, about how much of the world there is ahead of me. Of you. Of everyone. And- and what to make of the future.” Which was true, but Miss Elsie was hardly the most important figure in Benny’s life when it came to the future. No, the man to whom he had entrusted that (and a bloody sizable payment!), was-

“Mister Roger Smith, he’s also been a reason for bad sleep. But in the best way.” The way which fed into Oxford. The way which led to this very day, to taking Samuel to Oxford. The way which had Benny awake not purely out of anxiety, but out of excitement, also. “Not that way, either, mind. I-” They were still a five minute’s walk away from the centre of Oxford, the place Benny so wished them to be when he revealed the truth to Sam, but Benny had never been good at waiting. Never. He stilled, one hand catching Samuel by the elbow.

“Sam,” Benny said, his tone excited but serious. “I’ve decided. I’m not going to Oxford.”

-

“That sounds lovely, Benny” He replied, honestly and with a small giggle still on his lips from the shaking. He knew what Benny was doing, after all, he did the same thing mere months ago, but now he knew how Benny felt. Powerless and tired. He looked at Benny, and smiled softly at him, despite being aware of how exhausted he must look “Sounds really lovely”.

A bright chuckle finally left his lips at his brother mishap. Benny’s stumbling was nothing new, but it always managed to amuse him, especially when it was accompanied by how red his brother was turning. “Of course not” he teased with a wink.

The prospect of the future though, made him somber. Of course he was happy that his brother finally found a source of joy and optimism, especially after everything that happened, but he couldn’t help but think that his own future currently was lying with a secret, and nothing more.

♣ ♣ ♣

Zahir bowed his head at the ‘thank you’ accepting it with a bit of grace and a bit of pride. The next moment, he was clicking his tongue at Samuel’s words. “Of course, I am. It is very good advice,” he said, with no humility. After all, he firmly believed it. “And I am not the kind of person to be an hypocrite about that. So, I will accept your promise and watch carefully that you will keep it,” he added, and there was no teasing joke in his words. He was being utterly serious.

“Hm, hm,” he hummed pensively, doing his best not to be moved by Samuel’s laughter to smile. “I think one thing at a time, or you will get too ahead of yourself,” he said, but there, right there at the corner of his lips, a tiny tiny smile.

“He would probably be fascinated by it,” he said, without thinking of how it could be considered insulting to say something like that about a Reverend of the Anglican Church, yet Zahir had meant nothing bad by it. “And she is either starting her own religion to machine, or doing a good impression to it.” Maybe that was harsh, but then it was not Samuel that had to hear about the latest vacuum model at the breakfast table every morning.

“Is that.. good, yes?” he asked, looking now at the board with a careful eye. He did not even know how he had made the check.

-

“I appreciate that” Samuel replied, nodding his head, but with a small quirk of his lips at Zahir’s confidence. Sometimes he wished he could conjure the same confidence in his own decisions and advices. And he truly did appreciate Zahir’s candor.

Samuel chuckled “it is part of what I do- getting ahead of myself- but you’re right, first chess, then complex heart anatomy” his chuckle increased in volume, and he wanted to pat Zahir’s shoulder, but knew it was probably too friendly, and too forward.

Zahir’s words made his eyebrow rise up in amusement “That would be the strangest religion I’ve ever heard of, but probably not too odd.”

∞

Ivy didn’t turn around until she heard him announce her arrival, but by then Samuel was already very small. Just small enough for her to cover his body with her little finger. She ran back to look around, but she couldn’t believe it. There were many shops, even many hardware shops. She dug out her map and compared the street name with that of the shop. She wrinkled her nose and put it back in her pocket, it would be a miracle if the card survived even two more minutes. “Ah, fuck it.” Her last words as she found herself inside the shop, which looked so average from the outside, but it was fancy, lit and stocked with more components and household goods than she could have ever dreamed of.

Her nose left marks on every glass, her fingers left marks on everything she touched, everything in the shop. Turning around, she saw the owner, skipped towards him and slapped a list of many illegible words on the counter. “I need these,” she pushed her glasses back on her nose and leaned against the counter as she ran her finger over the list. “And this one with a diameter of…” but she was not taken seriously and ran helplessly back to Samuel to drag him to the counter while she whispered in his ear what he should do. The shopkeeper, after all, showed himself to be disinterested only in Ivy, as a woman, who was not supposed to know anything of this. Impatiently, Ivy snorted already.

-

A smile of honest charm came on Samuel’s lips. Ivy’s enthusiasm was so contagious, and he couldn’t help but be amazed at the inside of the shop, looking around at all the goods the store had to offer, picking up odd devices that he was not sure what they did, so he filed them in the back of his mind to ask Ivy later, after she finished her business. Especially this odd orb that looked like a very strange microphone.

A sympathetic smile lifted her lips at his confession. It was oddly nice to know that she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. It was almost like a kinship, rather than dread that she would never be comfortable at these events. “Hopefully they will reappear,” Florence hoped on his behalf. There was a benefit to always needing a chaperone, she realized. Never being able to be alone at an event like this was far better than having to brave the crowd solo. Florence leaned in to listen carefully, and let out a giggle.

“There is nothing to fear,” she promised, meaning it. Surely, no one would notice and Florence would certainly not say anything. “Though if you would prefer, we could promenade around the ballroom until we find one of your siblings,” the youngest Talbot suggested, trying to be helpful.

-

Lady Florence’s words encouraged him, making his nerves calm even more, and for the first time this evening, he was genuinely happy to be here, with her by his side. “I’m sure they will, at least at some point” he chuckled.