[flashback] in the bleak midwinter long ago

[2goodarms]

The materials started coming in from the Front last week, a few days after the protein blocks: boards, risers, gym mats, army blankets, rolls of fabric that might have been curtains or carpeting. They've been putting together bunks, stacks of them, under the direction of the armed guards.

By unspoken common consensus, the very end of the last car gets curtained off for Gilliam and the others recovering from their voluntary amputation, and the first makeshift pallets are carried back to them.

The work shift is over for the day, and protein blocks are being distributed. Under a guard's watchful eye, one person -- a different one each day -- is tapped to bring food to those who can't walk out to get it for themselves.

Today it's Curtis.

The cloth pulled tight around his right arm used to be a bandana. The wound beneath it split open again last night; he hasn't been able to stop picking at it. Before, a cut like this might've meant stitches. Now it just means pain biting his arm as he cradles the protein blocks to his chest.

Curtis doesn't look up. Nobody looks at him. They part like the Red Sea when he moves, like the train cleaving through the ice. Even in this small space, they find room to get out of the way.

They still wonder if he's got a knife.

He stops in front of the curtains, exchanging an uneasy glance with the guard.

Comments

[2goodarms]

He nods again. Twists a little, just enough to follow Gilliam's gaze.



"Probably would've been better if someone else got my spot."

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Gilliam shakes his head.

"I have a feeling, Curtis," he says quietly, "that we will have great need of you before all is said and done."

[2goodarms]

He huffs out a breath, like some bitter cousin to laughter, but doesn't bother to argue.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Another pause, punctuated by munching. Until there's a movement of the curtain at the front, and a dark young face looks in.

"Gilliam," she says, "now?"

He looks up, smiling again. "Hello, Tanya. Yes, I think it may as well be. Please, come in."

She shoulders her way through the curtain and makes her way closer, cradling a bundle in her arms.

[2goodarms]

Curtis frowns. Letting go of his knees, he looks back and forth between the two.

(Now, she said, like she'd been waiting for this for a while.)

When he sees what's in her arms, the frown deepens for a split second -- and then the bundle moves, emitting a squeak, and all the color drains from his face.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Tanya folds down to sit cross-legged on the other side of Gilliam's pallet, steadying herself with one hand while holding the bundle against her shoulder with the other arm. She gives Curtis one long level look, then turns to Gilliam again with the -- baby, yes, it's a baby.

It's that baby.

"Curtis," says Gilliam mildly, "this is Tanya. And this little fellow is Edgar."

[2goodarms]

No. Oh, god, no.

Curtis opens his mouth, clamps it shut without saying a word, and throws a frantic look toward Gilliam. As unconsciously as he'd worried at the bandage on his arm, he scoots back a foot, trying to put more distance between himself and the baby.

(It has a name. Oh, god.)

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Give him here?" says Gilliam, holding out his arm.

Very carefully, Tanya leans forward and helps settle Edgar on Gilliam's lap. "Lean him on your shoulder," she says in an undertone, "like this. There, you got him."

Gilliam pats the baby's back, with that same absent gentleness. Tanya's still hovering close, to help steady his grasp if needed.

[2goodarms]

What are they doing. He shouldn't --

Curtis pushes back a few more inches, using the same movement to haul himself to his feet. Swaying slightly, half from the train and half from shock, he takes one stumbling step toward the dividing curtain.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Curtis."

Gilliam's voice has gone abruptly sharper.

[2goodarms]

He freezes.

His back's to Gilliam, Tanya, and the baby: all they can see is the swift rise and fall of his shoulders.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Come sit back down," says Gilliam, quieter. "Please."

[2goodarms]

No.

If he runs, he's not going to get anywhere. Gilliam can't move, but Tanya can.

Slowly, he turns around, eyes still wide and terrified.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Gilliam's looking up at him in concern; Tanya, at his side, in cool assessment.

"It's all right, dear boy." Very gently, almost worriedly.

[2goodarms]

He shakes his head, like he's been gripped by an involuntary shiver. His eyes dart to Tanya, back to Gilliam, down to the baby and away; he has to wet his lips before he speaks.

"Why do you want me here."

[snowpiercer_npcs]

Steadily: "I need to ask you to do something for me."

[2goodarms]

Curtis swallows, hard.

He can't help it: this time, when he looks down at the baby, he can't tear his gaze away.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

The baby's sleeping, albeit fitfully; as he looks down, the tiny head turns on Gilliam's shoulder and the little face screws itself up as though about to yawn or wail.

Gilliam waits, still looking up at him.

[2goodarms]

The baby wouldn't stop screaming. The noise almost drowned out his mother, it was so loud. All Curtis can think now is, please don't start crying.

He doesn't want to think about what he might do, if the baby starts crying. Even with Gilliam and Tanya sitting right there.

"What?"

[snowpiercer_npcs]

The look on Gilliam's face is more sad than anything else, now.

"Please sit down, Curtis."

[2goodarms]

What could they actually do to him, if he left the room? It couldn't be worse than what they just went through. He doesn't have anything to fear. He should just go.




Curtis lowers himself to the ground, and folds himself small.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"Someone," says Gilliam very gently, "needs to take care of this child."

[2goodarms]

"You can't be serious."

Very small, and even more horrified.

[snowpiercer_npcs]

"There's a woman who's been able to help feed him, because she has a nursing infant of her own -- but for the same reason, she doesn't have the wherewithal to take care of him on her own."

Gilliam's gaze dwells on him, serious and intent.

"This is something you can do, Curtis."

[2goodarms]

"No. No, look, man, I-I -- " The words accelerate, careening down the track. "I didn't even do any babysitting before, I don't know shit about stuff like this, I can't -- "