Work Text:
It had been a very long day. Marcus had been up since dawn setting up for an important magazine shoot featuring President Jaha, followed by a midday wedding in Polis which had taken much longer than expected because the bride demanded to see every photo immediately after Marcus took it. This caused him to run late for his next appointment, which was back in his studio in Arkadia, and the client – a high profile businesswoman called Diana Sydney – insisted on a steep discount for the inconvenience. To top it all off his business partner Sinclair, who usually handled both the set-up and the editing, was out of town for a conference with his assistant Raven, and Harper from the front desk had called in sick that morning.
Marcus almost couldn’t believe how much his photography business had grown in four years. It had started as more of a hobby than a job, really. He covered a kid’s birthday for a colleague’s son, took a family portrait for his mother’s friends, the wedding of an acquaintance. Almost everyone commented on how natural-looking yet beautifully composed his photos were and insisted he do something with his talent. Eventually, and with a lot of encouragement from his mother, he listened to them. He created a (quite poorly designed) website and “Kane’s Candids” was born. When Sinclair joined him a few months later the website was given a professional update that showcased Marcus’ portfolio and business began to fly in. Nowadays they were booked well in advance of six months and did everything from fun family shoots to serious corporate functions.
Normally Marcus was grateful for the amount of work and resulting pay but today he wanted nothing more than to go home, light a fire, pour himself and drink, and relax in his armchair with a good book.
He was just finishing off the last job of the day, editing photos for a hotel brochure, and was 10 minutes from closing up when he saw a woman pass by the window holding the hand of a young child. The pair were bundled up against the snow so he couldn’t get a good look at them, but he groaned when the woman checked the sign above the studio before heading towards the door. Both the website and the sign in the window clearly stated that walk-ins were turned away, but it didn’t stop people from trying.
He ducked his head over his laptop and didn’t look up as the bell over the front door rang. Hopefully she’d take the hint.
She didn’t. “Excuse me,” the woman said, and Marcus reluctantly looked up from the computer to meet her eyes. Which happened to be a gorgeous rich brown, and complemented by an equally stunning face. Any other day that a lady this beautiful came in to his studio Marcus would have turned up the charm, but the day had been so exhausting that he just wanted to go home already.
“Can I help you?” He said, a bit gruffer than intended.
“I hope so,” the woman sighed. “I know that you’re closing soon but I have a special favour to ask.”
At this point there was movement behind her and Marcus started as he remembered she’d come in with a child, who had been silent the whole exchange and was now peeking around her mother’s legs. Suddenly he lost the ability to speak.
It was a little girl, no more than six or seven, and underneath her thick woollen beanie and big winter coat she was skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what he can tell she had no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek fed straight into her nose. It was obvious that this kid was very, very sick.
“My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital,” the woman told him. “She really loves fairytales and the picture had a girl photoshopped onto a unicorn. I know you’re booked up and it’s months before the next appointment but –” She broke off, her voice failing.
It didn’t take a genius to work out that the next available appointment was probably way too far away for this particular kid.
The little girl looked up at her mom, squeezing her hand, and Marcus was lost. The entire stress-filled, exhausting day just melted away; no longer important.
Clearing the lump in his throat, he leaned over the counter to give the little girl a smile and a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t worry, that’s just for regular customers. I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you!”
The girl smiled and moved a bit closer to the desk.
“What’s your name sweetheart?” Marcus asked gently.
“Clarke,” the little girl replied shyly.
“Well Clarke, I’ve got a whole bunch of fairytale clothes with your name on them.”
He locked the front door before leading the pair to the back room and pulling out every costume he could find in the props cupboard.
For the next three hours he took photos of the young girl in every fairytale related pose he can think of, and she happens to be the most well behaved kid Marcus has ever worked with.
He spends the time between photos chatting to her and the woman, and learns a lot. He learns that Clarke doesn’t just like the pretty dresses, she’s also enamoured with the toy sword and shield (“Just like Wonder Woman, mom!”). He learns that she loves drawing, and her sketchbook is full of castles and forests and dragons. He learns that she’s not very good at drawing dragons yet. He learns that her mom, Abby, has the most beautiful laugh in the world.
When the photos are done, Clarke curls up on the coach in his office and shuts her eyes while he loads the photos for her mom to choose the ones she likes the most.
“What kind of retouching would you like done?” He asks Abby when she’s picked her favourites.
“Can you give me hair?” A small voice asks from the couch. Both adults turn in surprise to see Clarke, still lying on the couch but with her eyes half-open.
He’s about to answer that he can definitely do that when Abby cuts him off with a sharp. “Absolutely not.”
Clarke scowls and it’s the first time Marcus has seen her act like anything other than an absolute angel all night. She starts to whine but Abby is adamant. “We’ve talked about this, Clarke. You don’t need hair to make you pretty. You’re beautiful the way you are.”
Clarke sighs and closes her eyes again, evidently too exhausted to argue. Abby gazes at her daughter for a long moment before turning to Marcus and giving him a small, sad smile.
“Thank you for doing this. It’s been a tough year,” she admits, so softly that Marcus has to strain to hear her. “My husband died in January and then Clarke was diagnosed, so it’s been difficult. This will mean the world to her, I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
Marcus waves her thanks off. “It was my pleasure.” And, much to his surprise, it really had been. “I can have all those photos edited and finished in two days. If you give me your email I can send you the link to the website and the password to download them when they’re ready.”
She thanked him again, gave him the email address, and handed him a credit card. He handed it straight back. “Whoa! No way. This one’s on me.”
“No, I can't accept that,” Abby protested. “You stayed open so late and I know how much your shoots are listed for. Please at least charge me that.”
“Nope, I’m not taking money for this.”
She argued for a few more minutes but when it became clear he wasn’t going to back down she paused to take a breath and asked, “Why are you doing this for us?”
He didn’t know how to answer. He was doing it because this woman, who had to struggle with so much, was forced to stay strong for her daughter. He was doing it because this kid was sweet and smart despite being so sick. He was doing it because these two deserved every good thing they could possibly get. But mostly, he was doing it to give them something good to remember in a time that was otherwise horrific.
“Let’s call it hope,” he finally settled on.
Their eyes met for a long moment before she nodded in understanding, eyes suspiciously bright, scooped up the sleeping Clarke, thanked him once again, and left the store.
Six months later
Marcus was humming to himself as he worked on editing the day’s photos. There wasn’t much left to do so he’d sent everyone else home, with the exception of Raven who was working on some new equipment in the back room, and was just about to send through a link when a tapping at the window distracted him.
For a second he didn’t recognise Clarke behind the glass, looking happy, healthy, and drastically different to six months earlier. He’d sent the photos through a few days after they’d been taken, but hadn’t heard anything back from them since then.
He practically sprinted to the door to fling it open. “Hey, you!” He cried.
“Hi!” the little girl beamed. “I’m better! Look, I’m better!”
And she did look better. She’d put on some weight, was flushed and pink, and had a fine fuzz of blonde hair over her head. Abby was only a few steps behind her, grinning.
“We came to thank you properly,” she said, as the trio moved inside. She pulled out an envelope full of money and held it out to him.
“No way,” Marcus refused. “I couldn’t take it then and I won’t take it now.”
“Please,” Abby insisted seriously. “Those photos meant so much to both of us. Let me repay you.”
Marcus held out his hand to stop her and shook his head. “Absolutely not necessary. This visit has been payment enough.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so stubborn! Just take the damn money, Marcus. Please.”
“What’s going on in here?” Raven called, poking her head around the corner.
“Your boss won’t take money for a job well done,” Abby informed her.
“Geez Kane, if you don’t want it I’ll take it,” she said, strolling forward. “I think it’s about time you gave me a raise anyway.” She made her way over to Abby and reached out to take the envelope. Abby held it out to her with an amused smile.
“Don’t even think about it, Reyes.” He glared at her until she threw her hands up in surrender.
Abby laughed and shook her head. “At least let us take you out to dinner,” she demanded.
“I couldn’t –” he was interrupted by Raven telling her, “He’d love to.”
He sent her another glare but she just shrugged. “I can close the studio; you kids go have fun. And bring me some leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”
“I don’t…” this time he was interrupted by a tug on his shirt. He glanced down to see Clarke staring up at him with pleading eyes.
“Will you please come to dinner with us Mr. Kane? I want to show you my new drawings.”
He gave in.
So that was how, ten years later, the photo of a sick little girl in a princess dress fighting off a dragon with a sword and shield came to be framed and proudly displayed in his lounge room. He could never resist pointing it out each time his now step-daughter brought home friends (it had earned her the nickname ‘Princess’ a few years back) and she never failed to groan in embarrassment.
Marcus suspected the only reason she hadn’t ‘accidently’ destroyed it yet was because every time her mother passed the photo Abby would pause for a moment and smile.
Well, that and she knew Marcus would print a larger version if the current one ever mysteriously went missing.