/*
    BLANKSTYLE CSS
    [2021 Wikidot Theme]
    By Placeholder McD and HarryBlank
    Based on:
       Paperstack Theme by EstrellaYoshte
       Penumbra Theme by EstrellaYoshte
*/
 
@import url('https://fonts.bunny.net/css2?family=Montserrat:ital,wght@0,800;1,800&display=swap');
 
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If They Like You, I Like You

2024

25 July

---

Ilse had spent the last few days in a manic state, cleaning her home in preparation for the arrival of Jay and their adopted son, James. She had never dealt with a child before, much less one that was going to be under her partial care soon. Jay had made it clear that he was an agreeable child for the most part, only particular in his aversion to holding conversation with most people.

She had spoken with James a few times when Jay was putting him to bed while on call with her; though always in passing. The boy said things like 'hi' and 'good night', but they had never had a proper conversation. This distressed Ilse to some degree; she felt incapable of properly helping Jay in caring for the boy. This paired with the fact that he was an immortal like her made her particularly anxious. Jay hadn't said it, but Ilse understood that at some point, care of James would default to her in the absence of their partner's continued existence.

Prior to her escape from the ADDC, she had never even wrestled with the prospect of having a child. She was too busy living her life to entertain that, much less a relationship. But her newfound freedom brought many new things into her life, this being one of them. She liked the new. It reminded her that she was truly alive.

"Verdomme," the Acroamatic Abatement Chair cursed as she scrubbed the floor of her guest bathroom, her voice carrying outside to join the chorus of chittering birds. She had, of course, cracked the window to vent the bleach fumes from her extensive cleaning process. Her bright yellow gloves squeaked as she continued to poke and prod at an unknown stain. Eventually, she gave up. Defeated, she stood, dropping the scrubber and removing the latex gloves, then ran a hand through her red hair.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

She sighed. The time had finally come. Ilse got up and walked over to the front door, opening it as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her entire face was red from being bent over and working without breaks.

"Ilse!" Jay beamed.

She looked out, a slight smile scrawling onto her face as she came to see them, illuminated against the summer sun. They were wearing jeans and a Hawaiian shirt with burgers on it. They looked like such an idiot.

My idiot, she thought.

"James, say hi." Jay turned slightly to their left, revealing the six-year-old behind them. He was holding a grey lump of plastic with the text 'NINTENDO SWITCH' on it and staring at what she presumed to be a screen intently. The boy glanced up for the briefest of moments before raising the toy up to hide his eyes from her.

"James," Jay started, a bit sternly.

"Hi…" the boy whispered, still covering his eyes with the toy.

"Remember what we talked about, buddy. And don't hold it so close to your eyes, you'll damage them. Hand it over," they said, holding out their hand to the boy.

"Okay…" he grumbled. "Can I save first?"

"Just pause it and put it to sleep. I promise you your Pokémon aren't going anywhere."

James complied and handed the Switch to Jay, who deftly managed to sling their backpack over to the front and open a zipper, then stash the console within; all with only one arm. The boy stared at his feet and put his hands behind his back as Ilse got down on one knee to meet him at eye level.

"Hello, James. My name is Ilse Reynders," she smiled.

"Hi…" he repeated, not looking up.

"It's rude to not look at people while you're talking to them, James."

"Ilse," Jay cut in. She looked up at their partner, who was making a horizontal chopping motion with their only arm.

"What?" She frowned.

"It's okay buddy. She just doesn't know about you yet," Jay said, patting James on the back.

"Know what?"

"James has autism."

Ilse frowned again. She didn't consider herself old-fashioned, especially for a person over 100 years of age. Especially not for a Foundation employee. This was just something that the world had come to understand a lot better since her isolation. After all, the term had originally been used by Bleuler to describe a symptom of schizophrenia before becoming more widespread among the psychological community. She hadn't spent much time reading about psychology in her many studies, at least not mundane psychology, so she truly knew very little about this.

"Sorry," she nodded.

James looked up again, making eye contact with her for a second. Ilse offered him a kind smile, and he hid himself behind Jay. They stepped to the side, revealing him again.

"Remember that person I talked to you a lot about for the last two years?" Jay put their hand on James' back.

"Yeah…"

"This is her! I trust her with my life. She's my partner."

"Like Rex?" He looked up at them.

"Ew, no. Ilse is my romantic partner. We kiss and hug and love each other very much."

"Yuck…" The boy covered his face with his hands.

Jay laughed and Ilse would have flushed had she not still been red from all the work earlier. She got up and nodded to herself again, then looked at Jay.

"Come on in," she said.

Jay was the first through the door, taking off their shoes at the portal as was tradition. James walked behind them and looked on, then continued into the house.

"No!" Ilse frowned. "James, your shoes!"

"But I didn't step in mud!" he replied, gaze immediately shifting to his shoes again.

"Ilse, let me." Jay interjected, turning back and walking to the child. "James, in Ilse's house, we take off our shoes at the door. Even if we didn't step in mud. Okay?" they smiled down at him.

Not looking up, James sat on the ground and started untying his shoe laces. "Why?"

"I dunno. Ilse?"

"W-well…" she started. "I just prefer it that way. Its cleaner." she looked to Jay for affirmation. They smiled.

"There you have it, buddy."

"Okay," James replied, taking off his shoes and putting them beside Jay's. He then ran down the portal and into the house proper, looking around.

"Jay, can I talk to you alone for a moment?" Ilse reached for Jay's shoulder as they followed after James.

They nodded and looked to the child briefly. "Alright, buddy, you can play your Pokémon until we get back, okay? It's in my bag." Jay shuffled their shoulders, moving their bag off and setting it on the kitchen counter.

"Please don't touch anything, James. And if you must, be careful."

The two walked outside and Ilse half-shut the door behind her once Jay exited.

"Ilse, he knows to behave himself."

"But he didn't take off his shoes and he's a child!"

"He didn't know to take off his shoes at the door. How could he know? He's never been here before. And so what if he's a child? He's a good kid, Ilse."

She frowned slightly. Jay reached forward, their left hand finding purchase on Ilse's right cheek.

"Hey," they grinned.

"Hoi."

"You'll learn. You always do. You're the smartest person I know."

"I have the most PhDs in the world, I would hope so."

Jay snorted, which caused Ilse to do the same.

"There's that laugh," they grinned widely.

There was a brief silence in which they stared into one another's eyes. Ilse broke the silence.

"I don't think I'm ready to be a mother."

"I wasn't ready to be a parent when I took him under my care five years ago. And yet, here we are." Jay lowered their hand from Ilse's face and to her hand, taking it into their own. "He's taught me so much, and he can teach you too, if you let him."

Ilse's fingers interlinked with Jay's.

"Come. I want you to meet him properly."

---

---

In preparation for meeting with James, Ilse had read his SCP file.

She didn't know what a 'nintendo switch' was prior to seeing that gaudy piece of plastic James had glued to his eyes when they had met outside. She didn't know what a Pokémon was, but Jay did. She did, however, know what taking pictures was, and James seemed to be interested in that.

In an effort to create some common ground with James, Ilse bought James a camera. It was heavy, expensive, didn't resemble the cameras she had known throughout her life, and most of all, did not resemble a children's toy. Ilse had purchased him a bona fide photographer's camera. Not because she knew what it was, but because the salesman talked her into it. She was an easy mark, and she knew it, but none of her friends had been available to help her in this mission for the day that she was available to do it. Oh well.

"James," she started, approaching the kitchen island. "I have something for you."

The boy approached her silently, expectantly, curiously.

Ilse picked up the box from the center of the island and showed it off to James. He stared at it quizzically, unsure of what to do.

"What do you say, buddy?" Jay nudged him.

"Thank you. What is it?" he questioned, reaching his hands out to accept the box.

"It's a camera! So you can take pictures!" Ilse smiled. "I read that you like taking pictures."

Just as Ilse handed him the box, James' small hands couldn't quite wrap themselves around the width of it, causing it to fall to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" James pleaded, hiding behind Jay.

"James, I'm sure it's okay. Accidents happen, right Ilse?" They put their hand on his shoulder, then looked to Ilse.

She was staring at the box on the floor wordlessly.

"Ilse?"

"That costs more than I ever saw before joining the Foundation," she said absentmindedly before suddenly snapping back into the moment.

"Ilse, it's okay. You can get a refund for it. It's still in the box."

"It was for James and now it's broken. I—I… Well. It's fine," she mumbled, staring over at the little boy.

"James said he was sorry. It was an accident, right buddy?" Jay looked down at their son, who nodded frantically as he clutched their Hawaiian shirt.

Ilse took a deep breath.

In…

… then out.

"It's okay," she sighed. "We can get a protective case for the next one."

"See, buddy? It's okay. Go sit down on the couch. I'm going to make tea for Ilse and I." Jay smiled down at James as Ilse bent over to grab the box.

"Go talk to him. You don't want him scared of you," Jay whispered.

Ilse nodded, walked into the living room, then sat across from James in her living room, watching the boy kick his legs on the couch and stare at the floor. She shot Jay a sideways glance when they turned around momentarily, to which Jay jerked their head down towards the child insistently and mouthed something she couldn't quite make out.

Still, she got the message.

"So, James," Ilse started, leaning forward. "Jay tells me you're a smart kid. What is your favorite subject in school?"

"I get tutoring, I don't go to school," he replied, not looking up.

"Well, what is your favorite subject to be tutored in?"

"Umm… math, I guess."

"Maths, hmm? I think that's brilliant, James. What do you want to be when you grow u—" she started, but was cut off by Jay coughing from the kitchen. It was, however, too late.

"I don't grow up. I stay six years old forever." James finally looked up, staring directly into Ilse's blue eyes with his own browns.

She could feel the pressure mounting on her. Ilse could feel Jay staring her down from the kitchen. The topic of James' immortality was a bit of a taboo one to bring up around him, since it made him existential in a way that only children could possibly be, plus with the autism, it wasn't going to help having them become sociable. She sighed.

"I… I don't know if your other parent has told you this, but I am immortal too." Ilse's hands clasped together as she stared ahead at James.

The boy seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"They have. But you're older and bigger than me," the boy said plainly, kicking his feet.

Jay looked on from the kitchen.

"I had an accident that made me the way I am. I was about forty. I'm over one hundred twenty now," Ilse affirmed, recalling that fateful December day.

She tensed up. She shut her eyes. Her breath quickened. Her pulse skyrocketed.

She was back in the chamber again.

"…. and this just in from the Mediterranean Theatre of the War; supplies for Greece are expected to dry up before its liberation, according to top American officials today in—"

Ilse clicked the radio off and sighed.

"Why turn on the talkie if you're just gonna turn it right off again?" Ilse's assistant, a short, squat man a little over thirty grumbled. He walked down the hallway, carrying a stack of papers scheduled for abatement and placed them on a table, then put his hands on his waist to resemble a particularly fat vase for a moment.

"Sorry, Jackson. I guess I was hoping for good news."

"It's fine, Dr. Reynders. Say, you're not going to stay much longer, are you?"

"I'm going to the incinerator and I'm gonna drop off what you just brought here. Keep me company from the window?"

"Sure."

Ilse picked up the stack of papers and walked towards the ADDC, shadowed by Jackson.

"Got any plans for New Years?" he asked.

"Not really. It's not like I have a family I can go to right now."

"Yeah, I— sorry, Ilse."

"It's fine. I will be getting the last bit of closure tomorrow, though."

The duo arrived to the ADDC, and Ilse continued to the incinerator. Jackson stayed by the window. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Yes. The anomalous document that killed Lyse… I have the last of it. It won't hurt anyone ever again." Ilse walked towards the blast furnace, opening it up and tossing in a few documents into it. "053213-12321-RVA abated."

"Noted. Do you think maybe you'll start your own family after this?"

"053213-12365-RVB abated. What do you mean?" She kept her eyes low, staring into the fires as she tossed more documents in.

"Noted. I don't know, like maybe get married and have a kid? I'm sure your parents would love to be grandparents. If they make it out of the war."

"053213-12398-RVC abated. And what do you mean 'if'? They will. I know they will." She tossed more in.

"Sorry. And noted."

"053214-12413-RVD abated."

"Noted. But, Ilse, do you think you'll ever have a family of your own?"

"053214-12437-RVE abated. I don't know, what kind of question is that? How am I meant to know? I'm not an oracle, Jackson. Besides, there's so much that I—"

That was the last thing Ilse remembered telling Jackson.

2024

25 July

---

"— ames, honey, she is not okay right now, but she will be. Just let me—"

Though her vision was hazy, Ilse could see a figure approaching her from directly ahead. It was small, vaguely brown, and wore a blue shirt with a yellow creature she vaguely recognized as a Pokémon from Jay's own spiels. The little figure embraced her tightly. It smelled of chamomile and was soft.

"It's okay," the figure said.

Ilse's vision slowly came into focus. She spotted Jay, still rounding the island from the kitchen and approaching with a soft smile on their face. She spotted James embracing her, his little head buried in her shoulder. Tears welled up in her eyes at the boy's gesture.

"James…" she started.

"I don't know if I had an accident. I don't know what happened to me but I don't grow up, like you."

"James, honey, your mom is a grown-up. She just doesn't get older." Jay corrected him, putting a hand on the boys shoulder.

He moved back, letting go of Ilse, and noticing she was crying. "Baba, can I have my bag please?" James asked, turning to look at Jay.

"Yes, James. It's on the kitchen counter," Jay nodded, then took a seat beside their partner while the boy scurried off. "Hey. Talk to me."

"He really is a good kid," Ilse choked out.

"I told you."

"I don't think we should tell him about my accident yet. I don't want to scare him."

"Then we won't. But we should talk to Ngo about these flashbacks. They're getting worse."

"Ja."

Before Jay could mock their partner's goofy language, James reappeared, holding his Switch and a disposable wipe. He offered the wipe to Ilse.

"What's this, buddy?" Jay asked.

"Do you remember when I fell and hurt my knee and I cried?" he replied.

"Yes."

"I didn't like to cry. I don't think mom likes to cry either, so I got her a tissue so she can wipe her tears away."

Ilse's tears continued, but she smiled through them.

"You'd do that for me? But we just met," she sobbed out, accepting the tissue and dabbing her face.

"You're my mom because you're my baba's partner. If they like you, I think you're a good mom."

Ilse sobbed, now inconsolably so.

"That's very kind of you, James." Jay looked to the boy, who was turning on his toy. "And what's with the Switch? I thought we agreed no games while we met Ilse."

"I wanted to show her my Pokémon. Nobody can be sad when they play Pokémon!"

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