Opening her apartment door only enough to slip through, Iris immediately locked the deadbolts behind her as a long sigh blew passed her lips. "Why did I think that was a good idea?" she muttered to herself as her head fell back against the door with a barely audible thud. "I'm insane." Pushing off the door and stepping into the tiny space of her apartment, barely enough to be called that since it was one large room with a tiny washroom the only space separate from the kitchen/bedroom, Iris carefully unbuttoned her coat and moved to the closet to hang it up.
Even the closet was just an open alcove with a bar that she'd hung—nearly taking her finger off because she was not a handy person.
Ducking into the kitchen portion of the apartment to make herself a tea, Iris hoped it would be enough to calm her frayed nerves before she had to go to work that evening. When speaking with Dr. Fletcher on the phone, she'd decided that it was best to meet with the woman before she had to go to work instead of taking up her next day off. Of course, now she wished that she had not gone to the building at all but if she had she really should have done so on her day off.
Her hands trembled when she filled her kettle with water and placed it on the stovetop, causing some of it to splash out onto her hand. Immediately shaking the water off of her mark, Iris flinched like she'd been burned. The thinness of her hand meant that when she spread her fingers out to look more closely at the mark, her tendons lifted beneath her skin and rippled the words.
Even after everything that she had been through when she was younger, up until she had finally had enough and ran away from home, Iris did not hate her marks. Many times she had sought comfort from them, and even strength. They had withstood so much from her parents; she figured that she could as well. If they were strong enough, deep enough, that her parents couldn't ruin them or destroy them then she could survive it as well.
Tracing over the neat writing, with the ring finger of her other hand, Iris smiled faintly.
The smile didn't last, however, as the reality of what had happened returned to the forefront of her mind. She had met her soulmate today—or one of them, at least—and she had been absolutely horrible to him. Not only were her first words to the poor man those of rejection, but she had run away from him as well. None of her marks were rude or aggressive, so she could only imagine what he must have felt by her reaction to hearing what he said.
That was not how she expected meeting her soulmate to go.
Whatever had made her say those words only caused regret and despair to claw at her insides now, wishing for nothing more than the chance to take those words back.
A few people she had met over the years had told her stories of their marks, some of which were a statement of rejection. That rejection wasn't always sorted out and they were left disconnected from a soulmate that didn't want them. A friend she had in her early high-school years, prior to running away, had the mark that said 'come on, of all people it had to be you?' on her leg. Iris couldn't remember ever seeing her friend in shorts, keeping her mark covered just like Iris's.
"I'm a horrible person," she whispered to the mark on her hand, clenching it into a fist.
Abruptly stepping back from the counter, Iris pulled off the sweater she had thrown on before she'd left earlier, followed by the long-sleeved undershirt, and soon stood in her bra as she looked down at the scratchy writing on her bicep. Stroking her fingers along the skin, thankfully one patch that didn't hold scars from her parents.
The sudden ring of her cellphone jerked her out of her thoughts so abruptly that she leapt in place, hand clutching at the mark on her arm as though desperate for it. Abandoning the small kitchen in favour of snatching her cellphone from the pocket of her coat, relieved that she'd set it on ring otherwise she never would have remembered where it was, Iris pulled it out and glanced briefly at the lit screen.
Karen Fletcher
"No," she mumbled, staring down at the phone as her heart began beating quickly in her chest. Would that man still be there? Was he having the doctor call Iris?
Hating the thought of ignoring him or the doctor again, Iris tapped the accept button and lifted the phone reluctantly to her ear.
"Hello, Dr. Fletcher."
"Miss. Mayfair, are you alright? I'm sure that today was not what you expected..."
Sighing softly as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, the closest thing to sit on, Iris leaned her forehead in one hand while the other clutched at the cellphone. "I'm sorry for running out like I did...and for running away. I...I hope..."
"Barry understands that it's overwhelming, to meet a soulmate," Dr. Fletched offered, the name of the man making Iris lift her head as her hand fell over her lips, the pain and guilt returning. Why was it easier when he didn't have a name? "I know that it takes a bit of time to adjust to knowing you met your soulmate, especially with how afraid you seem to be of yours-"
"I'm not afraid of my marks," Iris interrupted. "I love my marks. But...I never thought that I..."
The other line remained silent for a moment before Dr. Fletched began again softly, "Iris...there are many things that need to come to light. And I want to assure you that things will work, but I cannot do that if you don't talk to me. Barry wants to know you, and I'm sure your other soulmates do as well," she continued to explain calmly.
"You...know you who they are, don't you?" Iris struggled out, fidgeting in place as her attention drifted down to her exposed arms and the various marks and scars that were on display.
"I may," Fletcher answered hesitantly. "But that is not up to me to say. For now, I want to speak with you again, if you're willing."
"I dunno, Dr. Fletcher. Even if you say he understands...what I said was awful. And to have to share me with so many others?"
Dr. Fletcher didn't speak up right away, as though she was trying to think of how to phrase what was on her mind. "You and Barry need to discuss this, not you and I, but I do want to help you, Iris. I can see that you're in pain, that you've struggled through your life, and it's because of those marks. Those soulmates. I don't want you to have to carry that pain around with you for the rest of your life."
"I don't think I could afford your services," she argued, sounding tired. "And as I said, I love my marks. There is nothing from my past that changes that."
"You may love your marks, but I can see that they have...cause problems for you, Iris. Please, just meet with me one more time, no charge, so we can discuss this."
Knowing that someone could see through her so easily, especially someone that had insight on her marks—and her scars—made Iris's skin prickle uncomfortably. She trembled in place as her scars itched faintly, her shoulders shaking with the motion, before she clenched her muscles and hunched forward with the effort to remain still and frozen.
"I can't," she struggled out, the crack in her voice feeling like a strike through her vocal cords. "I'm sorry."
Hurriedly hanging up with a shaky thumb over the 'end call' button as tears burned her eyes, Iris tried not to think of the blue-eyed man that had said one of the twenty-four marks on her body. The phone clattered to the floor without further thought as Iris remained hunched at the edge of her bed, wearing only her bra across her torso as her pale skin pebbled against the cold air. Her nails scraped across her arms, leaving red welts in their wake, unable to control the urge to remove the itches.
Carefully focusing on her breathing and doing her best to remain as calm as possible, Iris was almost too far gone into her mind to hear a second call come through her phone. The upturn screen once more read Dr. Fletcher's name, but this time went ignored and unanswered as the pale woman struggled to push aside the panic attack threatening to overtake her.
Dr. Fletcher sighed as her call went to voicemail, moving to hang up the phone in her office before she sat in front of her computer forlornly. She had done her best to assure Barry that she would talk to Iris again, knowing that he and the other alters were going to have their own ways of dealing with what happened today. She had hoped that speaking with Iris and helping her through some of the struggles of her past may prompt her to seek Barry out again, but Iris had no desire to dredge up what had happened.
That alone told the older woman that they were old scars, both emotional and physical, and Iris had dealt with them in her own way—no matter how unhealthy that way may be.
Typing out an email to Barry that she had not been able to get a hold of Iris, hoping to avoid telling him of her first conversation with the woman, she assured him that she would try again and keep him informed before then she signed and sent the email.
Iris Mayfair, if Fletcher was to assume, had been abused while growing up because of her numerous soulmarks. Whether it was by family or people unrelated to her, she was mostly unsure, but she was leaning toward it having been one or both parents. Knowing for certain would help her to formulate a way of helping Iris, but the first hurdle was to actually make Iris want the help.
The woman was so accustomed to dealing with her pain and problems on her own, she probably didn't trust easily—if at all.
Barry had been the one to say the words, not Kevin. It had been one of his personalities that spoke the words of Iris's mark, and if Fletcher was to bet she would say that Iris had twenty-three marks on her body—one for each of the personalities in Kevin Wendell Crumb's body. Kevin's case was special on its own, having as many stable personalities as he did. But to have a soulmate with a mark for each personality was something that she had been trying to find for years.
Iris Mayfair was an amazing anomaly, and a perfect match for Kevin and the personalities that had made their reason for being to protect Kevin. The young woman reminded her of Kevin, sweet and gentle and easily hurt by those around her with a past that left her carrying deep wounds.
Sitting back in her chair she tapped ring-decorated fingers against her lips in thought. Perhaps Iris had some kind of record that she could get her hands on, even just to better understand what she was dealing with.
It wouldn't be easy to obtain if she did, but it was at least something to look into.
She only hoped that Barry was able to keep the alters in control for the time being. She knew quite a few would rather go out and look for the poor woman on their own, and that could be dangerous for an already tender situation.
She had not met all of them yet, but there were some she knew who would have different ways of handling the situation than what Barry had done just recently.
Deciding that it was best to let Iris be for the rest of the day, the woman more than likely uncomfortably overwhelmed, Fletcher rose from her desk chair and began preparing for her next appointment. Barry had shown up early, the sole reason for running into Iris, and they had decided to cut the session short when she had constantly caught him going silent and lost in his mind—it made her wonder if he had been speaking with the alters or just thinking on his own about what had taken place.
Beneath the Philadelphia Zoo, Barry was sitting in the small kitchen of the home that they had created for themselves, the rooms of the abandoned tunnels making up a home of twenty-three personalities. Eyes closed as he rested his elbows on the table, forehead on his fists—ignoring the reprimanding look that he got from Patricia when he did it—Barry sat among the others in their circle of chairs, the light at his back shoulders casting a shadow among them.
Kevin remained sleeping quietly in his chair, curled up comfortably as the others spoke softly alongside him.
"Well, well, well, who'd have thought that sweet, innocent Barry would get rejected," Jade teased, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was sorry for what he had gone through. None of them had wanted to be the ones to hear those words, so even as relieved as she was to not hear them, she felt sorry for him to have been the one.
"At least it wasn't him," he answered, glancing over to Kevin. He looked much younger and happier in his sleep, where he was safe. They knew he couldn't remain asleep forever, it was cruel to take his life from him, but they only wanted to protect him from the world.
"Well, that crosses one mark off," Orwell pointed out, tapping the calf that he had crossed over his other thigh, where the mark lay beneath his pants.
Dennis remained silent, even though he wanted to mention how they had been so sure he would be the one to hear those words. It did, however, make him curious to know what was going to be said to him.
If they could every find this woman again.
"What did you do to chase her away?" Hedwig asked innocently, rocking his chair to and fro, from front legs to back legs.
"Stop that," Rakal ordered, reaching over to slam all four legs of Hedwig's chair back on the ground. The nine year old pouted and crossed his arms, glancing away from the larger man as he looked over to where Barry was oddly silent. Normally he'd be trying to call them all to order, to bring some kind of conduct to their group talks like this.
"I did not chase her away," he answered calmly, ignoring the small issue between Rakal and Hedwig. "Dr. Fletcher mentioned that she was timid and afraid the entire time they were speaking. She thinks something happened to her...something to do with the marks."
Mary Reynolds sighed softly from across the circle. "Multiple soulmarks still cause problems for people...twenty-three of them? You all know the difficulty we faced with ours. Kevin had us to help him, we all had each other, she...probably had no one."
"She has us," Dennis finally spoke up, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on his pant-leg, drawing the attention of the other alters his way. "We protect Kevin. We keep him safe from everything in this world that wants to hurt him...and we will protect her as well."
Rare as it was, Barry was nodding his head in agreement. "He's right," he answered, getting some looks of surprise. He and Dennis did not see eye-to-eye often, they had such contradicting personalities and dominant mindsets that it often caused them to clash. "She is ours to protect now. She has been hurt and it won't be easy...but she was meant for us. All of us. So that makes it worth it."
"Let's find her first," Patricia interrupted calmly. "Then we will go from there."
Barry looked over to Samuel, who he had already decided would be the one to next enter the light. Samuel was slightly older, in his early forties, so Barry knew that he wasn't going to go rushing out to try and find her, probably just scaring her away in the process. Rising from the seat that Barry had claimed, Samuel stepped from the kitchen to go and change into his own clothing, more formal than Barry's but not nearly as monochromatic as Dennis's.
They all knew what Iris looked like now, thanks to Barry and his odd enjoyment with going to see Dr. Fletcher as he ended up running into their fleeing soulmate.
Now they were all left to wonder where they would go from there; Iris had run, and they had no idea where she went or how to find her. There was a chance that Dr. Fletcher would be able to follow through with her assurances and get a hold of the young woman, but they had their doubts after having lived through the life that Kevin was raised in.
If she was anything like Kevin, she would want to avoid the problem on her own. It was Kevin's way of coping and they were born as a result of it.
Entering his bedroom and beginning to remove Barry's clothes, making a mental note to drop them off in his room on his way passed, Samuel wondered what their little soulmate was doing in that moment. Was she thinking of them? How was she handling the knowledge that she had found one of her twenty-three soulmates?
Did she know that all soulmates were housed in one body?