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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years

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Tell us about Oskar before he was Oskar!

"Tell us a little about yourself," The woman says, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. She has a kind, welcoming smile, narrow rectangular glasses with bright green frames, and hair so black it seems to soak up light without giving any back.

The little sign on her desk reads DARYA RANDALL, DONATION COUNSELOR. Like he's giving up a kidney and not his entire life.

Cole clears his throat, shifting nervously. "Uh, not much to tell. I was born in Memphis-"

"You've come a long way," The woman notes. She writes something down on the paper in front of her, and Cole struggles not to crane his neck to see what it is. "What brought you to California?"

"My dad. Or... my dad's new wife. He met her online. He just... He was just dating all the time. He met this new woman, and she wanted him to move to, um. To her city. So he did, and Zae and I were dragged right along with him."

"Zae is your younger sister?"

"Yep."

"Did she also spend time in state care?"

"Nope." He pops the 'p' to cover up the gentle swell of bitterness. "Her mom wouldn't let her leave Tennessee, and it was in the custody agreement, so." He shrugs. "She's still back there. With her grandparents now, I think."

"Ah. So you were half-siblings."

Cole bristles a little, but the look of empathy and compassion in her face soothes his nerves. "Yes."

"And you had no family to-"

"Look, I came here because I give the fuck up," Cole says, but there's no anger lacing the words, just despair. "You think I have some kind of family to run back to, if I'm sitting here?"

"I'm sorry," She says, softly. He gets the feeling she actually means it. "We've already preverified your age and ability to donate. We just like to have some details for our own records, in case..." She trails off.

"In case someone reports me missing?" He suggests, and sees by the way her eyes sharply focus, suddenly, on him that his guess was correct. "Nobody, ma'am."

"Please, call me Darya." She smiles, and has a crooked tooth on one side. It's cute.

Cole smiles back, relaxing a little. "Okay, well, Darya... There's nobody. I aged out of care and maybe someone else can do better with my life than I have, you know? I'm just really tired. And I want someone else to fix it, change something."

She takes her pen and makes a little check next to something on the paper. "Well, as you know, WRU is in the business of changing lives. You sound pretty sincerely committed. Have you given thought to what designation you would prefer?"

"Whatever the cooking and cleaning one is. I don't want to... You know." He wiggles one hand in a vague gesture.

"Of course." Her smile turns slightly impish. "That would be Domestic, but Cole, what if I suggested Platonic? It seems more up your alley."

"What's that?"

"Well, sometimes they end up working with senior care, but... A Platonic is... a friend. A family member, if you will. Some other uses, but mostly... company."

Cole wrinkles his nose. "Like a dog?"

"... Not unlike one, yes. What do you think?"

Her pen is poised over the paper, and her smile is sweet and soft and kind. When is the last time anyone was kind to him?

"Sure," He says, finally. "Whatever works. I just want to hand all this... all this mess off to be someone else's problem."

"Of course." She makes another check. "Welcome to WRU, Cole. I'm going to step out and grab someone from legal and we'll get your contract signed right here and now and check you in, okay?" Darya stands, smoothing wrinkles from her pants automatically.

She's at the door when Cole says, "Wait, can I ask-"

There's a flicker of irritation overridden by her kind expression again. "Of course. Ask away."

"All that stuff online about what WRU does, hurting people and kidnapping them... That's all a lie, right?"

Her smile shifts - an oh, this question again look. "WRU had never ever taken on someone who didn't sign the contract of their own free will," She says, bright and cheerful. "You know how people are on the internet. They'd rather tell a good story where we're a James Bond villain than admit there are just... problems WRU can help people solve. You know? I wouldn't do what I do if I didn't know I was helping people. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah." Sort of, anyway. He watches her leave, then looks down at old scars on his knuckles.

Cole feels like a problem, all right.

Maybe WRU is the solution.

When she comes back, she has a dour-looking man in a suit and two of the WRU Handlers with her. They have all the paperwork for him to sign.

And they have a leather dog collar.

"Wait, I have to wear it right away?" Cole goes to stand, but one hand gently pushes him down by his shoulder. "I thought you-... took away memories first-"

"We will. Just stay right there, Cole."

"You sure about this?" One handler asks Darya.

She smiles, putting a hand on Cole's other shoulder. He has the surreal sense of being surrounded by hungry wolves. "I think he'll do best with a lighter touch, Connor. Let's get the ball rolling, shall we?"

The dour man - the lawyer - sets some papers down in front of Cole. Cole, hands shaking, signs them without reading, and then the collar is fastened around his neck.

It's as fast as that.

Three signatures and that's it. It's done.

"Welcome home," Darya says, shaking his hand. "WRU Trainee 332009. Thank you for handing us your life. I promise we'll take amazing care of it."

Her compassion is gone - all that he sees now is a very pleased predator.

Cole realizes, suddenly, that he's made a terrible mistake.

But when the handlers lead him from the room, he goes, eyes on the floor. He doesn't look up.

After all-

This is what he just signed up for, right?

#oskar #oskar asks #pet whump #wru #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #institutional whump reference #whump #whump writing

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