"i am everyone and no one,
the burden and the burdened."

—

courtney marie, from "Don't Get Your Hopes Up," published in Nat. Brut

It was nearly Winter when they first met.

Ada had come home one day, Clara's hand in hers, their hushed giggles drawing the attention of Ada's brothers the moment their feet crossed the threshold. Three sets of the same blue eyes had landed on a girl no older than their sister, a girl with wide eyes and a nervous smile.

It was a common occurrence after that for Thomas to catch a glimpse of Clara before he had to head out, her soft strawberry blonde hair a beacon amongst the Shelby clans dark heads of hair. Each time he had shrugged her off, his little sister's friend just that.

She'd come and go, her laughter and smiles something the Shelby family had gotten quite used to. Clara was a thrilling story-teller, her tall tales drawing in even Thomas, soaking up all of his attention the moment her story would begin.

Clara was soon part of the family. When the Shelby's business turned darker and darker, Clara stood under their name and under their protection, every need of her and her families met due to her deep friendship with Ada. Thomas himself had grown quite fond of the girl, her sunny disposition warming him on colder nights.

He hadn't realized how much he appreciated her presence until Clara had been sick with a nasty cold. According to her mother, she was sneezing and coughing up till late into the night, driving Ada mad as the days passed and her best friend still had not gotten better.

Thomas had been given the task of bringing over some bread and lard along with the Shelby families wishes for Clara to get well. He'd thought she'd be resting in her bed and away from sight, but upon coming to her small home, he was curious to see her swinging lightly on the small swing he and Arthur had built some time ago.

Her legs kicked softly through the air with her head bowed, hiding her flushed face and watery eyes. Despite her father's thick grey scarf wrapped neatly around her throat and the pale green jacket she had been gifted by her sister, the day was cold. Clara's small shoulder shook despite her best efforts, the chill sinking into her bones.

"And 'ere I thought you were ill." Thomas stepped up to the fence, curling the hand not carrying the goods around the rough wood.

He watched her startle, their gaze meeting across the fence. The shock of witnessing someone he considered family brought to such sorrow caused him to drop the bread. Thomas cursed under his breath, careful to keep her from hearing, bending at the knees to retrieve his gifts.

Clara shocked him once more by meeting him face to face when he stood, her hand resting where his just was. "I am ill." She whispered. Clara glanced back at her home, as if afraid to be heard.

Thomas looked past Clara and hears the loud shouting of her parents for the first time. It clicks in his mind, her tears and her braving the cold when she should be inside and at rest.

"You don't look it." Thomas' eyes looked nearly grey in the dreary weather, his dark hair making him look even paler against the bleak sky. He looked like a dream to sick little Clara, who still had not stopped shivering.

"Doesn't mean I'm not ill." Clara said, turning from him and making her way back to her swing.

Thomas bit back a sigh, reminding himself that she was his little sister's friend. "Aren't you going to ask me in?"

Clara blinks owlishly at him from where she sat. While she knew it was the polite thing to do, she hadn't needed to be asked into the Shelby home in a long while. Clara remembered the story her father told her, of the pale creatures called vampires who took the blood from your very body.

"Are you a vampire, Thomas?" Clara began to swing once more, a smile pulling at her lips.

Thomas smothered his laughter. He'd sworn to himself he'd be more of man since turning eighteen, that he'd take things in with the careful consideration they deserved. And so he considered Clara and her question.

"Are you?" He asked, pulling open the fence door and stepping through, once again glancing at the house that was filling with 's voice.

Clara's laugh was more of a wheeze in the chill, puffs of breath escaping her and pluming in the air. "Of course not! Vampires never get sick. They are immortal too, you know. Can't die."

Thomas cocked a dark brow, his lips twitching. "Do you wish to be immortal, Clara?"

He closed the door behind him before heading to stand next to the young girl. Thomas rested the bag gently on her lap as she slowed to a stop, watching her tilt her head and think of an answer for him. Thomas has always been one to indulge in her odd questions and her strange thoughts, always finding bits of wisdom in her words despite her age.

She didn't disappoint him. "Only if everyone I love is immortal too. But sadly, no vampire story I have heard has been a happy one."

"Vampires are usually the bad men. Do you think bad men should have happy stories?" Thomas stuffed his hands into his pockets, raising his voice to cover the Lovelace's squabbling.

Clara played with the bit of string that tied the opening to the bundle of food, rubbing it between her fingers. "I think some of them should. Doing bad things does not make us bad people, Thomas. My father says we should all at least get a happy ending, even if the middle is not very happy."

An: Looks like I've fooled myself into starting another fanfic! I had originally wanted this to be a one-shot, but I'm writing too much for it to be one. I'm barely breaching s1ep2...yikes lol

Anyways, let me know what you think! I'm a bit rusty, but it should get better as I go on.