Legion’s first season takes its time with Cary and
Kerry. It introduces both characters
separately and then teases out their connection slowly over a few episodes
before revealing what the deal is with them.
It’s a fascinating character dynamic that adds a lot to how both are
portrayed (Cary-Kerry-related spoilers.)
Kerry
takes part in the operation to rescue David from Division 3, and once they’re
all back at Summerland, Cary quickly begins studying David in hopes of
understanding the full nature of his powers and what might be holding them
back. Then, we start to get hints. While in the MRI, David mistakenly thinks
Cary is talking to him, and when he admits that he sometimes talks to himself
too, Cary insists that he’s talking, not to himself, but to “Cary” (really,
Kerry.) At this point, David doesn’t
know Kerry’s name or much of anything about her, and he questions, “So you’re
talking to Cary, just not the Cary that happens to be yourself.” Cary, naturally, finds nothing strange about
that.
Because
it’s soon clear that there’s more going on beyond an eccentric scientist. Kerry can appear seemingly out of nowhere,
being absent and then, when Cary calls for her, suddenly just being. It’s not until episode 4 that their full
nature is revealed, in a conversation between Syd and Kerry about the latter’s
identity. There, we learn that her (and
Cary’s) parents had been expecting the birth of a Native daughter and were
shocked when a little white boy came out.
Then in turn, Cary was shocked when he woke up night to find a little
Native girl playing with his train set.
The realization came slowly:
Kerry was inside of him and
could come out when she or he wanted.
That’s
how their life has been lived, fundamentally together. When Kerry is inside Cary, it seems she’s
still fully aware and they can communicate with each other, but she only ages
when she’s outside of him, meaning that he’s decades older than her. When they’re separated, they can feel one
another’s bodies (Cary feels the punches when Kerry fights,) and when Kerry is
hurt, she can heal by going inside Cary, who then takes on her bruises. It’s something they don’t fully understand
themselves; Cary confesses that he doesn’t know what will happen to Kerry when
he dies.
As people
(and they are two different people,)
they’re very different. Cary is more of
a lab guy, preferring to stay in, study, and tinker, while Kerry is an
adrenaline junkie who relishes mixing it up with some baddies. In many ways, Kerry is the tough one, Cary’s
protector, but when they’re truly cut off from one another, she feels
terrifyingly alone in a way she never has before. Just as he needs her and misses her when
she’s away, she needs him and needs to know he’s there even when they’re apart.
Syd
doesn’t quite get them. She worries
about Kerry, thinking that existing inside Cary puts her at a disadvantage,
person-wise, like she’s not being allowed to be a complete person in the way
that the rest of them are. But Kerry
likes the way she lives – as she explains to Syd, she never has to deal with
the “boring” stuff like sleeping, eating, and going to the bathroom, and she’ll
gladly let Cary take the reins there as long as she can come out when the
action starts – and really, whatever it is that Cary and Kerry have, you don’t
have to watch them for more than a few minutes before realizing that it works
for them.
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