I understand why romantic love was put at the forefront of season two in contrast to the ensemble approach of season one. Mark Scout and Gemma’s, Mark S’ and Helly R’s, both Dylans and Gretchen George, both Irvings and the Burts they each met (including the strained guilty cage of a marriage Burt and Fields found themselves growing old in, including Helena Eagan’s abuse stemming from a lifetime of having zero agency over her own life and body but also an unacceptable amount of power and entitlement over Lumon’s employees, including Cobel and Hampton’s cynical revisiting of a teenage crush that was never allowed to exist in the context of child labor, including the glimpses into Devon and Ricken’s relationship through all of Ricken’s betrayals of the earnestness Devon loved about him). But I still hope that all of these relationships outside of monogamous love and the various successes and failures of the nuclear family are at the core of the story that Severance will end up telling. There’s things I think of that give me hope:

I think about Mark S’ first minutes alive, consisting of a voice that became his best friend even when Mark vowed to find and kill him on instinct, cornered and afraid. Mark S, who wakes up every day in the same underground, windowless office choking on grief and anger he can’t explain and who tried to escape more times than Helly R, knowing that escape is by definition a suicide, and failed. Petey K, who greeted him upon arrival, was watched by a security camera and may have still offered words of comfort, just like Mark S, who broke protocol for Helly R when he picked up the torch of being department head because Petey K was gone. Petey K, who watched and worried and mapped the floor despite the express forbidding of it in search of a way out while Mark S was being tortured into being passively and functionally suicidal instead of threatening MDR’s productivity. Petey K, who found a way to reintegrate, went to his very good friend’s outie and showed him a recording of Mark S in the break room. I think about Mark Scout hearing his own voice coming out of that tape recorder, begging for forgiveness, and deciding to let this stranger crash in his basement (that he avoided for two years, that he couldn’t even fish a backup light bulb from) for a few days. I think about June Kilmer, whom Petey K never met in his two reintegrated weeks before death and still was so loved by his outie that even in two tangled lifespans, she remained a point of reference. And Mark Scout, who came home to find Petey gone and watched him collapse with one last reassuring look at him, must have looked like Mark S to Petey in his last moments, an anchor in a flood of memory just as much as June. Mark S was brought into the world because Mark Scout couldn’t live with the grief for Gemma and the life they never would’ve had, all 24 hours a day. Mark Scout, who attended Peter Kilmer’s funeral (even when the memory of Gemma dragged him to the bar) for a version of himself that was loved enough to die for.

I think about a suicidal Irving B in front of that fire exit, having to break the first hug he’s initiated in his whole life as Dylan gets dragged away to the promise of a “real” family in his outie’s wife, even as he turns back in worry towards Irving, who says perk when he means family, because innies are not allowed to have that. The kid who made him proverbial dinner even when he was being a shitty dad by stealing a card from O&D and staying behind for him to go and find Burt G’s outie. Irving B, who learned the hard way that leaving is dying, and Dylan, who noticed Irving was sweet on Burt and only disapproved because he thought he’d get disemboweled for it, who encouraged the courtship, and who wants Irving to live just as much as Burt G did (and Burt Goodman does). Irving B, who, unlike Mark S and Helly R upon their arrival, was told that he would not be dragged back if he chose to quit as if it was an act of mercy and not a taunt about his disposability. Irving B turned his back to that exit because whoever was in Helly’s body was not her, and no one else had seemed to notice: it was up to him to try and get her back even if it was too late to do the same for Burt. He needs to figure it out for Dylan G, who loves him because even when he threatens to hurt people, he only does it to make a point and never follows through, and who isn’t listening because he has yet to experience the grief Irving B needed to realize that it’s not their world up there. For Mark S, with the weird sense of humor that only Petey appreciated, who hid Petey’s photo before Irving was ready to say goodbye, the kid that mocked his greeting and feared his zealotry but still went out and got them the proverbial dinner, took them all to O&D under the threat of torture the second he saw Irving berate himself for wanting to visit Burt. Mark, used by everyone inside and outside of the severed floor because he would go to the break room for anyone but won’t listen because he wants a love to call his own (that Helly gave him without him having to sacrifice anything, but it’s not their Helly he’s making goo-goo eyes at). For Helly, who wasn’t supposed to try to open the door at her orientation, who spent too long in the break room, whom he didn’t get to hide motivational handbook quotes for, who needs someone to chant her name for encouragement, who met quota on her first quarter anyway because she still believed there was a chance to get out alive and because she did, after all, find a family in MDR and fought to give them a chance at living. And Irving B does figure it out, because he knows now that dreams can be messages from friends, that darkness can be paint, and that even in the terror of incomprehension love will light up a way out. He got Helly back for all of them, for every innie whose entire world is the severed floor. Helly, who was never cruel, whose body he threatened with harm even if he didn’t follow through, hoping perhaps she’d come back and he’d have a chance to apologize. He gets to hold Helly close and comfort her one last time in the way he had wanted to for so long and wasn’t allowed to, using his body to hug her like he did Dylan G, to tell Dylan and Mark that they are forgiven. He doesn’t get a seal of approval to kill himself this time around, but he’s feeling the warmth of the sun on his face for the first and last time in his life as he walks into the forest at peace with his choice, letting all three of them know that they are loved enough to die for.

I think about Helly R, who respectfully penned requests for her outie to quit, not understanding why anyone would want to exist in the life she has, getting told through her own voice that she was not a person, and deciding that suicide was the best way to get out. Helly R, who was brought to the shrine for the family that made the only existence she got a living hell, because it served their ends, by Irving B, who was being swallowed by the gaping absence of a family and found comfort in being of use to these strangers. Helly, whose suffering and anger touched the other refiners so profoundly that the fear and shame they were all groomed into for years crumbled in mere weeks. Helly, who thought she would die in that noose and woke up in the same elevator, still alive and trapped, for whom Mark lied just to get a few minutes alone to talk to her about her suicide attempt, who also broke the rules to recreate Petey’s escape plan for Mark from Mark himself (even if he had been the one to shred it when she immediately recognized how much Mark loved and was loved by Petey, even if she’s not and will never be his replacement, even if she lied to him twice to get a chance at leaving, even when Mark had been doing everything in his power to spare her from the break room). Helly, who was told that they were glad she was still alive, even if that meant her outie sent her back to hell, and even if that was all Mark had to give at the time, still gave her the promise of putting up a fight for them to get anything better. Helly offered Dylan to stay behind in his stead to trigger the OTC because Dylan at least had a child who loved him, which was kinder than whatever life awaited her out there, which she knew would be filled with the same cruelty her outie showed her in denying her request for a resignation and sending her back with the evidence of a suicide attempt still visible on her skin. Helly, who didn’t even get to leave the Lumon building during the OTC, still had faith in the idea that the truth about the pain in their lives on the severed floor would reach someone outside with the means to help. Helly, who was tackled for her betrayal and woke up drowning, got to see the outside this time around, but at the cost of weeks of her life that crushed her hope for a life she could call truly hers, and her beloved Irving B, who did end up showing her that there was beauty in the life they made, that she had taught him they could have beyond a shrine to their masters, is real and worth living for no matter what their outies’ biological families did to them. Helly, who rallied a whole department she didn’t even know existed before that moment by mentioning Irving’s name, walked back into hell looking into Gemma’s eyes and having heard her outie’s father say he did not love his daughter, because it was through the love Mark Scout felt for Gemma and the care that Helena was denied that Helly found love and family on the severed floor, and all of them are worth fighting for.

I think about Burt Goodman, who lost his job because a part of him he condemned to a life of forced labor as atonement fell in love with a man he will never meet, a version of himself with a love he believes he could never have after what he’s done for Lumon. I think about him recording a video for the formal execution of what he thought of as an innocent version of himself telling everyone at O&D that despite the conspicuous absence of their memories, he feels Burt G’s fulfillment from working with them. I think about how he recorded it under the assumption that Burt G’s lover would be there to watch it, even if Irving B’s presence was a clerical error that would lead to a crack in Lumon’s image so large it would set the foundation of its downfall as a company, but not before getting Irving B killed. Burt Goodman, who heard a desperate stranger at his door screaming his name and followed him for weeks, who invited him for dinner to facilitate the breaking and entering of a company higher-up into his house in search of excuses to kill him, who saw his own complicity in the death machine of Lumon penciled carefully alongside all the names of people Irving Bailiff was trying to help, and watched him say, I know now that you’re not with them, even as he tensed in fear when Burt cornered him to offer a ride, which would read as more of a threat than a helping hand to this man whose home he broke into. Trusting him because his service dog (the only one that takes care of Irving Bailiff, the only one that Irving Bailiff can take care of, who probably smelled Burt G on his human’s work clothes and heard tentative joy in the spring of his steps for weeks, then found them both gone) was at ease. Burt Goodman, who was asked to drive his innie’s lover to his death, and Irving Bailiff, who knew this and still got in the car. Burt Goodman, who called two strangers (his own innie and Irving Bailiff) buddy with every ounce of tenderness in parting. Burt Goodman, who loves Irving B and what he meant for Burt G even if he knows neither of them. Burt Goodman, who wants to save this stranger that isn’t afraid of muggers or knaves, that knew what he’d done and still went on a ride with him. Burt Goodman, who will burn if it means that, unknown and unknowable to the both of them, Burt G and his love for Irving B, Felicia, and the entire O&D department remain alive in a chip in Irving Bailiff’s brain. That Irving Bailiff gets a chance to build a heaven for them all in this world is worth dying for.

I think about Irving Bailiff and his single bed, his wardrobe mostly filled with formalwear for Irving B that he’d never wear outside himself, oil paint and maritime signal flags, and voicemail as one-way acts of love that can reach only their intended target, at the cost of the certainty of returned affection. Tall walls that need a literal watchdog and matching uniforms with a father that exists as one single photograph in the same trunk that holds years of violence from him, to him, to people like him, to people more vulnerable than him, and ways to use that proof of harm to help them all out. I think about Irving Bailiff’s sense of self held in dusty medal displays and out-of-focus trinkets and the soft presses of hands against fur and paint and cheekbones with such longing that they can’t be looked at directly for too long without them catching on fire and disappearing without a trace, only fleeting glimpses in the dark. Did he also come out of the elevator feeling loved, like Burt Goodman, and put a comb in his pocket instead of a key card? Did his hands gravitate to Marcus Aurelius the evening after Burt G’s retirement party without knowing why? Did he feel a prick of suspicion when he tracked the flight of that lone vulture, or is the loneliness such an expected fixture for him that it was the good days that felt like a fluke? When he apologized to Burt Goodman for showing up and startling him and his husband, did he think it was an act of love for Burt that got his innie killed in the end? Did he imagine a man with Burt Goodman’s face holding him with love, respect, and care in a hell neither of them wanted to be in, and in doing so finally let himself feel the hell of his life outside? I know that he did not think of Helly R, Dylan G, and Mark S. I know that he didn’t think of Felicia welcoming his innie with a hug and sharing one of her precious two daily vending machine snacks, reminiscing about the Burt they both loved. I know he didn’t think of Miss Casey, who told his innie about his dog in words he could not understand and immediately held him with as much love as Irving Bailiff does on the daily when he recognized the name in the tag, even if he had never seen an animal before. Miss Casey, whose first choice was as a person instead of a unilateral therapeutic mouthpiece, was telling Irving B that Burt G was in an unauthorized location instead of with their bosses. Miss Casey, who was there to offer hugs to Helly R and care for her in ways Irving B was not authorized to. I know he didn’t think of them because he doesn’t even know they exist, much less that his innie loved them all (not just Burt G) enough to die for, and yet Irving Bailiff is left with a chance to live due to this collective generosity.

I think about Dylan George’s stop being nice [to me] to Gretchen because he didn’t get the door salesman job. I think about Dylan George, who forgot about the cookies but remembered to ask Gretchen if the time with his innie was nice. I think about Gretchen saying she kissed Dylan G because he reminded her of the way Dylan George used to be, and Dylan citing his precarious financial contribution to the household in the same breath where he threatens to quit so that this version of him (that he was, at some point, that he can’t seem to be anymore) won’t take Gretchen from him. I think of Eustice Huang watching and listening and growing quieter on the other side of a CCTV system, looking at this stranger she’s not supposed to think of as a person, who asked her if she was being forced to work here, looking at his children that he cannot meet, at this woman who is not his wife but knows all of him, with such longing and recognition, and growing quieter, more tolerant of breaches of information. I think about Dylan G proposing to Gretchen, even when he doesn’t even know the last name they share, because there’s nothing to be had inside the severed floor anymore—Mark S has barely been down there since the ORTBO and might not come back at all; they took Helly, and he didn’t even notice or listen to Irving’s suspicions that he was trusted with. How is he supposed to separate the guilt from the fear? What if it’s Helena Eagan that he’s snitching to about the elevator? How will he ever find the elevator now that Irving’s dead? Does he really have the strength of two men? Is he dumb? Is he a dick? Is he an asshole down here too? I think about the fact that Gretchen George knows that she’s not all Dylan G has. How Dylan G must have told her about Irving B, about the funeral, about Helly and Mark, and about Petey and their jokes. How Dylan G quit even if she rejected the proposal, and it must’ve reached the George household through outie Dylan, who didn’t follow through on his threat of quitting and still found himself gone. How Dylan George doesn’t know that his innie’s last words before asking to be erased from existence were addressed to a teenager to try and absolve her from the guilt his death might cause her, a teenager who came to understand how the innies were undeniably people, despite a lifetime of propaganda, because she witnessed every act of care from Dylan G from behind security cameras, and even knowing that, he still extended that care to her. How Gretchen George must’ve told her husband about his innie’s loved ones, because he walks back into that elevator and tells Dylan G both fuck you and that he gets it: Gretchen and their children outside are loved enough to die for, and he won’t take the choice to die for his loved ones from him. But he reminds Dylan G of what his innie’s very existence and love for Gretchen and their children reminded him of: both of their families are loved enough to live and fight for.

There is so much love in all of their lives, and the use Lumon gets out of exploiting their severed status is the reason all of them don’t know about most of it. It’s harder to attempt to fight the abuse if you think you’re doing it alone, and the people you’re in this with are not just your spouse or your biological children. I want all this love to burst through the hole that Petey K’s death left in this story. I hope it’s not too late.