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Find My Name

Summary:

With a mark made illegible by scars and a ruined self-image, Sebastian is sure he can never find a true love. Simon seems to disagree.

What Sebastian never expected was finding not only love, but also herself.

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There are many things Sebastian has lost to his father’s cruelty.

His self-confidence was one of the most important things, still wavering at times even though it has been years since Blaise Debeste paid for his crimes with his life. Sebastian is getting better about it, does not doubt himself nearly as much as he used to, but it’s still a work in progress. It’s not easy to shake off the effect of seventeen years of hearing that he is useless, stupid, shameful. He is still trying, though.

He did not exactly have a childhood, either, or so Sebastian has come to realize. Kay speaks fondly of her memories of games and happy days, even after she lost her father, but all Sebastian can recall is studying and fear. His only happy memories of his childhood relate to music, music and some forgotten shadow of his mother that might just be his imagination. Mr. Edgeworth seems to understand this side of it, though, has sometimes spoken of the strict rules and even stricter expectations that were placed upon him in the Von Karma household, and it makes Sebastian feel a little better. Not because he would ever wish such a thing on anyone, of course, but it does make him feel slightly less foolish for not being able to relate to some of Kay’s more fanciful anecdotes.

The thing he misses the most, though, is his mark.

He knows there used to be one, right there on his wrist where it should be. If he squints he can still see faint bits of color, the edges of a curl here or a broken line there, but the scars have made it entirely illegible. It was the first time his father burned him, or at least the first time he remembers, though from there Blaise’s cruel games soon spread to Sebastian’s hands. Every now and then he would return to the oldest scar, though, running the flame of his lighter over the already mangled skin. He was just doing everyone a favor, Blaise’s voice murmured in Sebastian’s ear even years later. It wasn’t like anyone would want such a useless soulmate anyway; it would be for the best if Sebastian never tried to push himself on some poor sap just because they had a name he’d seen before.

Sebastian tried to ask his father in prison, just once, if he remembered what the name had been. Blaise simply smirked and declared he wouldn’t tell Sebastian even if he’d bothered to remember.

It was the last time Sebastian saw his father before his execution.

Now Blaise is long gone, and along with him Sebastian has lost any hope of ever actually finding his soulmate. He looks at the marks on other people sometimes, those who don’t hide their marks out of modesty or a simple preference of privacy, and wonders what his mark used to look like.

Kay’s mark is like a puzzle all to itself, a complicated design that she insists is a code for her to solve so she can truly earn her soulmate. Klavier only has one name, bold red letters proclaiming ‘JUSTICE’, and Klavier jokes about how law will always be his one true love until the day he first sees a certain loud lawyer in court and falls head over heels, brother’s downfall or not. Mr. Edgeworth’s mark is mostly hidden, he is awfully proper after all, but Sebastian has managed to see it a few times, admiring the beautiful, fluid lines of the Chinese characters there. Everyone else has these lovely marks, reflecting not only the names but the personalities of their soulmates. All Sebastian has are scars and questions.

Perhaps he should just forget about all that. Not everyone has marks anyway, clearly his loss doesn’t mean he will never find someone. He should simply move past what his father stole from him and make his own fate, his own happiness.

Then Simon Blackquill is proven innocent, and Sebastian thinks he might have found something after all.

He used to be afraid of Simon, even before the false conviction. The shackles and sour demeanor certainly didn’t make things any easier. Now, though, Mr. Edgeworth tells him that Simon is perfectly nice underneath his sharp attitude, and probably needs a friend whether he would admit it or not. Sebastian knows how that feels, knows the feeling of being disliked by people for something out of his control. Simon might still be a bit creepy, and he does say mean things sometimes, but as long as he doesn’t plan actual harm Sebastian is perfectly capable of looking past the appearances.

Of course, it helps that Simon seems perfectly willing to ignore appearances in Sebastian’s case, too. There are still some days when Sebastian can barely stand for others to see him at all, never mind the parts of him that he truly dislikes. Simon seems to be able to tell when he has a truly bad day, as he makes sure to comment on something Sebastian has accomplished. It could be simply a coincidence, but Sebastian likes to think it’s intentional. Not that he really needs any more motivation to like Simon, of course. For all that he used to be scared, he now feels strangely safe around Simon. He knows Simon would never hurt him, or anyone undeserving.

Not that Simon will ever want him. After all, even Sebastian himself can’t imagine being desirable. He is scarred and scared and ugly, and he never feels right in his own skin, so clearly there is no way anyone would want anything to do with him. Besides, Simon has a mark, Sebastian has never seen it but he has seen the band Simon wears around his wrist under his jacket, obscuring it. If the mark was for Sebastian, surely Simon would have told him already.

He really should have expected Simon to defy his expectations in this, too. Simon does seem to make a sport of proving Sebastian wrong in all the best ways, such as turning to him one day over lunch and saying, “I checked with the Chief Prosecutor, and apparently it is permissible for me to ask you for a date once without it being considered harassment.”

The whole thing flusters Sebastian enough that he very nearly chokes. By the time he’s managed to recover, he stares up at Simon. “I… sorry?”

“I would very much like to take you out on a date.” Simon says it so easily, like it’s something simple, like it’s not entirely ridiculous that someone would want Sebastian like that. “If you are agreeable, of course.”

“But… you have a mark.”

“Perhaps. However, I would much rather follow my heart than some scrawlings on my skin that I never had any say in.” Simon tilts his head to the side. “If you are not interested, that is obviously fine. We can both move on and I will never bring this up again. However, I wanted to at least make my interest clear.”

“Why would you want someone like me?” Sebastian can barely even choke out the words. “I’m — I’m ugly and stupid and just… wrong.”

“I beg to differ.” Simon shakes his head, as though this is just that simple. “You are not ugly to me, and you are certainly not stupid. And if you don’t feel right, well, that is just something we need to work out together, hmm?”

Sebastian should say no, should turn him down and never let himself even hope for something so unattainable. Instead, he hears himself agree, shy but real.

Simon’s smile alone very nearly makes it all worth it.

Sebastian thinks Simon has forgotten about his comment about being wrong, perhaps even hopes he would. As such he is somewhat surprised when a couple of months later, when they are still dating somehow, Simon hands him a gift bag.

“What’s this for?” Sebastian blinks, catching the bag as Simon walks past him into Sebastian’s apartment. They are supposed to make dinner together, which in reality means Simon is going to make them dinner while Sebastian keeps him company, but this does not look like the grocery bags Simon sometimes insists on bringing along.

“I saw you eyeing it the other day.” Simon glances at him, and if Sebastian didn’t know better he might actually think Simon looks… hesitant? That can’t be true, though, Simon never hesitates. “At least, I believe you did. If I was wrong, I hope you will forgive me for being so presumptuous.”

Sebastian frowns at such strange comments, then peeks into the bag. His eyes widen as he sees a bundle of fabric inside. It’s hard to tell with it folded up in the bag, but he’s fairly sure he recognizes the fabric. The problem is, the only place he has seen it before is a beautiful dress that caught his eye the other day while he was out getting lunch with Simon. “Simon?” His voice creaks a little and he swallows. He can practically hear his father’s voice in his ears, telling him what a failure he is. How he will never amount to anything anyway, but at least he should try to be a proper man somehow.

“It is a gift.” Simon calls out from the kitchen, already making himself busy as usual. “Whether you accept it or not is up to you. I simply wanted to make you happy.”

He should say it’s ridiculous, should point out such things are for women. Instead, Sebastian finds himself holding the bag a bit closer to his chest.

Simon tends to like cooking complicated food. Sebastian should have plenty of time to change and still talk with Simon for a bit.

He ends up not saying much, really, too overwhelmed by the sensation of the soft fabric against his skin. The dress actually fits him, as well as something clearly designed for a woman could fit him anyway, and it feels just as wonderful on him as it had looked on the mannequin. Sebastian feels… lighter, somehow, like he’s not quite so pulled down to the ground.

For perhaps the first time ever, he feels beautiful.

Simon actually carries most of the conversation, which isn’t the usual state of affairs, but it’s not like Sebastian could truly do his own part right now. He can’t find any words, not even to thank Simon, but somehow Simon seems to get his point anyway.

“You look comfortable in that.” This is Simon, always, never making judgments on what Sebastian is like. Someone else might have tried to flatter their partner’s appearance, might have said that Sebastian looks pretty or that the blue of the dress suits him, but all Simon will comment on is how Sebastian seems to feel. Like that is the part that truly matters, like Sebastian isn’t sitting there on the kitchen stool in an outfit that is clearly not meant for him.

Sebastian might not have the words to speak, but he can still manage a kiss. Simon seems to know what he means, though. Simon always does.

Somehow, it doesn’t end there. Sebastian won’t wear the dress outside the house, of course, but he does wear it at home sometimes. The first time Kay surprises him like that, he fears her reaction, but Kay is Kay and immediately accepts it. She becomes his partner in crime, brings her dresses he is too embarrassed to buy for himself and helps him figure out how to make his hair look nicer and how to get started with makeup. She apparently also visits Simon, though, as one day Simon admits he got a visit from a rather fierce young woman demanding to know whether he was truly trying to make Sebastian happy or just fulfilling some strange fetish of his. It truly was the former, Simon assures Sebastian, Sebastian’s happiness is what’s important, and Simon does not care if Sebastian is male or female or something else.

That is the first time it even occurs to Sebastian that he might be anything more than a man, a failed man who can’t seem to act as he should. There is a lot of thinking for him to do, and Simon has an apparently infinite amount of patience for him. Simon’s snarky comments never come out at times like this, not when Sebastian is so vulnerable and afraid. Instead, Simon holds him just as close no matter what he wears, kisses him just as gently whether he is wearing makeup or not, and simply nods as Sebastian asks, so very shy and afraid, if Simon wouldn’t mind using female pronouns for her.

Nothing has ever felt quite so right as hearing Simon refer to Sebastian as his girlfriend.

There is still a lot Sebastian needs to figure out, a lot of questions to ask and even more to answer. What she does know is that this is right, that blocks are finally falling into place after a lifetime of confusion and fear. She still doesn’t like her body, but at least now she knows why it has always felt so wrong, why it seems so unlikely that anyone would find her desirable. Not that Simon has any trouble with that, it seems, but he also respects the fact that Sebastian still has to work through a lot of things.

Of course, Simon gets to be the first one to hear her next bit of news. She has been thinking about it for a while, weighing her options with just as much seriousness as she does her cases. She has come to a decision, though, and she wants to tell him first of all.

“Simon.” She feels awfully nervous all of a sudden, but she knows Simon won’t judge her for it. “I… if I asked, would you mind calling me by a different name?”

“On one condition.” Simon smirks a bit, stepping closer. He reaches into the pocket of his overcoat and draws out a small jewelry box. “If you will take a look at this before you say anything.”

She opens the small jewelry box and gasps. There is a charm necklace inside, tiny letter-shaped pendants spelling out a name. Phoebe, bright and pure, the very thing she wants to be in defiance of his father’s darkness. Except… she is sure she never told Simon, she hasn’t even spoken about it with Kay, not anyone.

“How did you…” She trails off, unable to speak any further as the words get stuck in her throat.

“Well.” Simon smirks, an expression that would be intimidating if she didn’t know it would never be aimed at her. “I think this means my little cheatsheet was actually right.”

She is still unable to speak, staring as Simon picks up the necklace. At her wordless nod, he moves behind her, carefully putting the necklace on her. She can feel the pendants settling along her collarbones, feels Simon’s fingertips lingering for a moment against her skin before he lets her hair fall down again.

“Can I see?” It’s not a proper question, not precise enough, and yet Simon seems to understand anyway. Simon reaches his arms around her, pulls up one of his sleeves, and for once there is no sight of a band around his wrist. What Sebastian sees instead is a beautiful web of white and blue, musical notes and bars drawing the shape of a name.

PHOEBE. The very name she has chosen for herself.

“I thought my mark was not true to my heart,” Simon murmurs, his lips brushing against her hair. “Clearly, it saw deeper than I could ever hope to.”

Phoebe can’t hold the tears back any longer, but Simon doesn’t mind.