wallwalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wallwalker) wrote2024-03-03 12:19 pm
wallwalker) wrote2024-03-03 12:19 pm
Entry tags:
MM 3: Negotiations
Part 3 of the Sedoretu original story. Mention of character death and also mention of dealing with immigration officials.
Shriya hated having to deal with immigration so, so much, especially alone. They'd called her when she was the only one awake and at home; Kris had been asleep and she'd been trying to stay quiet, but it was nearly impossible. It was at moments like this that she missed Rich the most; he'd always been able to talk to them when she couldn't, until she could calm down.
"This shouldn't have to be a negotiation," she said, after what had felt like a long conversation about nothing. Her hand was starting to shake around her phone, she was so angry. "I am legally married to two born citizens. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Of course it does," the oh-so-reasonable voice said over the phone, "and if it were up to me I'd rush this. It's just that your application would look better if you were in a full marriage group -"
"I was," she interrupted. "I was in a full Sedoretu with three citizens. I sent you all of the paperwork about our marriage group, I sent you the certificate and the receipts from our dates and the pictures of us together, I sent you everything you wanted, why wasn't it enough?"
She was starting to lose her temper and she knew it. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she sat down on the edge of the loveseat. She could work in a busy kitchen, she could lead a team on a line, she could deal with customers being horrible to her, and yet this very reasonable and very friendly voice over the phone was making her see red.
"Yes, Ma'am, we do have those records, I can see them on your file," the reasonable woman said. "But the latest update is that your marriage group had lost its Morning Husband -"
"Because he died!" she finally snapped, her voice rising. "He got sick and he said it was fine, he'd had the flu before, but we made him call the doctor and she told him to rest for a few days and he'd be better so he did, and the next morning he didn't wake up!" The days were etched in her memory, how angry and shocked they'd all been. His lungs had been inflamed, the doctor had said, and he'd choked to death in his bed.
The worst part was that Shriya had been out shopping. Kris and Marcus had been working and Shriya had wanted to cook something that evening but she hadn't wanted to leave Rich alone, but he'd insisted. He'd told her with that usual huge grin of his that if he was going to lie around the house she might as well cook something nice for the four of them. That he'd be fine for a few minutes. And all she could think was that if she'd been there, if she'd heard him coughing or choking or something, maybe she could've saved him... or maybe she would've only had time to watch him die...
She must've said something, or made some noise; the voice on the other end of the line was much more concerned than it had been before. "Ma'am, please -"
"We were happy!" she said, voice breaking down into sobs. "We were all married and we were happy, and the only reason that we're not now is because he's gone! How dare you say -"
"Ma'am, I'm sorry - Ma'am -"
"We were happy," she said again, feeling tears run down her face. "He was my... he was my closest friend, he kept me going when this whole process got to be too much, he...." He'd been her partner, she wanted to say, even more so than Kris and Marcus, her legal wife and husband. She and Rich had both been Mornings and they'd never gone to bed together but it didn't matter, she'd loved him so much and he'd helped her through so many difficult times, so many anxiety attacks. He'd been with her when she'd learned that her parents were disowning her because she hadn't accepted their arrangements for her life, he'd taken her to the immigration offices when she'd been too scared to go... and then he'd died and everyone was going on and on about how his Evening spouses must be suffering to lose their Morning husband while Shriya was sitting there trying not to snap at them talking around her, like her feelings didn't matter, like they were less important just because they weren't fucking -
"Oh, sweetie," she heard beside her, then felt Kris's soft arms around her. "I've got you. I've got you...."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Saravanan," the nice woman said over the phone. "I... let me review your files, okay? I'll try to update your status with... with information about the circumstances of the change. There's some... some data missing here. I'll send you a message for another appointment later, all right, Ma'am?"
"Yes," she managed through the tears, and felt Kris's cheek against her back. "I'm s-sorry..."
"It's all right," the woman said calmly. "I realize this must be an emotional process for you. I'll contact you when I need more information. I hope you have a nice day, Mrs. Saravanan."
The connection died.
Shriya took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I didn't... want to wake you," she said.
"I know. It's okay." Kris's arms were soft and brown and smelled faintly of some sort of oil - they just liked the smell, they insisted, they didn't think it was going to cure cancer or anything. It smelled a bit like lavender, she thought. It was nice. They moved to press his cheek against hers, their chin on her shoulder and their beard scratching against her skin.
"I... I know I'm not as good at this kind of bureaucratic stuff," they said. "But... you can tell me if you want emotional support, ok?"
"I didn't want to wake you up." She took a deep breath and managed to get some kind of control of herself again. "I know you're working tonight, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I picked up an extra shift. No big deal, it's just six hours."
It was a big deal to her, though. If she could just work somewhere, if they could get all of this taken care of, the others wouldn't have to keep carrying her.
"Come on," they said. "You need to relax. Come lie down?"
She nodded slowly. "I... can't sleep," she managed.
"I know. I'll put on one of the relaxation tapes. Those usually help, right?"
"Yeah," she answered, and as they pulled away enough to offer her an arm, she took it.
Shriya hated having to deal with immigration so, so much, especially alone. They'd called her when she was the only one awake and at home; Kris had been asleep and she'd been trying to stay quiet, but it was nearly impossible. It was at moments like this that she missed Rich the most; he'd always been able to talk to them when she couldn't, until she could calm down.
"This shouldn't have to be a negotiation," she said, after what had felt like a long conversation about nothing. Her hand was starting to shake around her phone, she was so angry. "I am legally married to two born citizens. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Of course it does," the oh-so-reasonable voice said over the phone, "and if it were up to me I'd rush this. It's just that your application would look better if you were in a full marriage group -"
"I was," she interrupted. "I was in a full Sedoretu with three citizens. I sent you all of the paperwork about our marriage group, I sent you the certificate and the receipts from our dates and the pictures of us together, I sent you everything you wanted, why wasn't it enough?"
She was starting to lose her temper and she knew it. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she sat down on the edge of the loveseat. She could work in a busy kitchen, she could lead a team on a line, she could deal with customers being horrible to her, and yet this very reasonable and very friendly voice over the phone was making her see red.
"Yes, Ma'am, we do have those records, I can see them on your file," the reasonable woman said. "But the latest update is that your marriage group had lost its Morning Husband -"
"Because he died!" she finally snapped, her voice rising. "He got sick and he said it was fine, he'd had the flu before, but we made him call the doctor and she told him to rest for a few days and he'd be better so he did, and the next morning he didn't wake up!" The days were etched in her memory, how angry and shocked they'd all been. His lungs had been inflamed, the doctor had said, and he'd choked to death in his bed.
The worst part was that Shriya had been out shopping. Kris and Marcus had been working and Shriya had wanted to cook something that evening but she hadn't wanted to leave Rich alone, but he'd insisted. He'd told her with that usual huge grin of his that if he was going to lie around the house she might as well cook something nice for the four of them. That he'd be fine for a few minutes. And all she could think was that if she'd been there, if she'd heard him coughing or choking or something, maybe she could've saved him... or maybe she would've only had time to watch him die...
She must've said something, or made some noise; the voice on the other end of the line was much more concerned than it had been before. "Ma'am, please -"
"We were happy!" she said, voice breaking down into sobs. "We were all married and we were happy, and the only reason that we're not now is because he's gone! How dare you say -"
"Ma'am, I'm sorry - Ma'am -"
"We were happy," she said again, feeling tears run down her face. "He was my... he was my closest friend, he kept me going when this whole process got to be too much, he...." He'd been her partner, she wanted to say, even more so than Kris and Marcus, her legal wife and husband. She and Rich had both been Mornings and they'd never gone to bed together but it didn't matter, she'd loved him so much and he'd helped her through so many difficult times, so many anxiety attacks. He'd been with her when she'd learned that her parents were disowning her because she hadn't accepted their arrangements for her life, he'd taken her to the immigration offices when she'd been too scared to go... and then he'd died and everyone was going on and on about how his Evening spouses must be suffering to lose their Morning husband while Shriya was sitting there trying not to snap at them talking around her, like her feelings didn't matter, like they were less important just because they weren't fucking -
"Oh, sweetie," she heard beside her, then felt Kris's soft arms around her. "I've got you. I've got you...."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Saravanan," the nice woman said over the phone. "I... let me review your files, okay? I'll try to update your status with... with information about the circumstances of the change. There's some... some data missing here. I'll send you a message for another appointment later, all right, Ma'am?"
"Yes," she managed through the tears, and felt Kris's cheek against her back. "I'm s-sorry..."
"It's all right," the woman said calmly. "I realize this must be an emotional process for you. I'll contact you when I need more information. I hope you have a nice day, Mrs. Saravanan."
The connection died.
Shriya took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I didn't... want to wake you," she said.
"I know. It's okay." Kris's arms were soft and brown and smelled faintly of some sort of oil - they just liked the smell, they insisted, they didn't think it was going to cure cancer or anything. It smelled a bit like lavender, she thought. It was nice. They moved to press his cheek against hers, their chin on her shoulder and their beard scratching against her skin.
"I... I know I'm not as good at this kind of bureaucratic stuff," they said. "But... you can tell me if you want emotional support, ok?"
"I didn't want to wake you up." She took a deep breath and managed to get some kind of control of herself again. "I know you're working tonight, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I picked up an extra shift. No big deal, it's just six hours."
It was a big deal to her, though. If she could just work somewhere, if they could get all of this taken care of, the others wouldn't have to keep carrying her.
"Come on," they said. "You need to relax. Come lie down?"
She nodded slowly. "I... can't sleep," she managed.
"I know. I'll put on one of the relaxation tapes. Those usually help, right?"
"Yeah," she answered, and as they pulled away enough to offer her an arm, she took it.