Chapter Text
==>Be Vriska Serket
You are Vriska Serket, and you just can’t wait to go back to school! Before you went to bed on New Year’s Day, you laid out your clothes neatly over the chair in your room. You tried to think of everything you would need to take with you to school, and put your bag together. You wonder how your mother remembers all this stuff!
Because your parents aren’t home. They’re not home and you need to take care of yourself and it’s a little nerve-wracking but you are not going to cry. Crying is for babies! You put yourself to bed and you do not cry, and you do not stay up half of the day staring at the light coming in around the drawn shades, waiting for your eyes to get heavy.
You might not have slept very well.
You get up on January 2nd and pop some pop tarts in the toaster in the afternoon, and pour yourself some milk, and try not to notice how low the level is on the milk in the bottle. You get yourself dressed. You pick up the bag you packed yesterday and sling it around your shoulders. And then you start walking.
You don’t know where your parents are. But obviously they thought you were awesome enough to be on your own. For a few days. (You hope.)
...Right?
You’re fuzzy on telling time, but you’re hoping that you won’t be too early or too late, because that would just be lame, and people would ask questions. But you have your coat and the hat that covers your horns and your gloves and boots on, you’re not going to be too cold. You remember how to get to school, you’ve walked here to go to the playground over vacation.
You try not to think about how Mom and Dad went out on New Year’s Eve and haven’t returned yet. You also know that you shouldn’t say anything to anyone, because they’ll (you don’t know who they are, but whoever they are, it’s unpleasant) take you away, and then what will happen to you? There’s an awful feeling in your stomach, and your blood-pusher is pounding in your chest and you feel like you can’t get enough breath.
You can’t think about that right now. There’s food at home, even if it’s not as much as before, you will be fine.
When you get to school, there’s no one on the playground. Uh oh. Maybe you’re late? Well, you can’t really let on that it’s your fault that you’re late, right? So...you stick your hands in your pockets and stroll into class, nonchalantly.
Everyone is sitting quietly, drawing pictures and writing. You just quietly start taking off your outerwear, hanging things up in your cubby.
“Vriska?”
Oh, it’s the human teacher, Miss Price. You give her your best smile. “Hiiiiiiii,” you say. “Sorry I’m late! Mom overslept and had to run to work!” The lie comes and goes so easily. Half of you wants her to realize it’s a lie. The other half is glad you seem to be getting away with it. The front of your brain and the back of your brain prickle with anxiety and your stomach is tight.
She smiles though, and nods. “Well, I’m sure she’ll have time to talk when she comes to pick you up again.”
You just nod confidently. You don’t know if she’ll be here for you. You hope so. It’s cold outside and you really don’t want to walk home again. Even though you’re more comfortable in the dark, you don’t want to walk home alone . And it’s lonely, and kind of scary during the day, when you can’t sleep and the house is too quiet, and you don’t remember how to adjust the heat and it got very cold last night, and...
“Why don’t you take your seat? We’re drawing at the moment. Anything you like! Maybe a favorite present you received this year?”
You nod, and take your seat beside Terezi. She is drawing a dragon with a bright yellow crayon. You try and find the blue crayon you usually use.
You really need to draw a spider. You really need to draw a spider right now.
==>Be Terezi Pyrope
You look at Vriska and you know something’s wrong. She smells wrong. You watch her as she presses extra hard with her crayon to draw the spider she’s concentrating on, her lower lip sucked between her fangs.
“Vriska,” you whisper, as you lean over, “...what’s wrong?”
“Nothin'. Just running late, is all.”
"Nooooo I know something’s wrong, Vris. It’s okay, I won’t tell.”
Vriska breaks her crayon, and goes still. “...Can’t say.”
Well, at least she admitted something was wrong. At least there’s that. “Why won’t you say?”
“...Just can’t. Drop it, ‘Rezi.” She isn’t looking at you.
You drop it. She picks up her blue crayon again and uses the unbroken side.
After a moment, she leans over towards you, laying her head on your shoulder.
Yes, something is definitely wrong, but you know Vriska very well. Chances are, she won’t tell you what’s wrong till the danger of anyone getting in trouble for it is past. At naptime, she curls up next to you, one hand fisted in your t-shirt, and actually falls asleep. You pet her messy, tumbled hair, and she doesn’t stir at all, even when you pull the t-shirt from her fingers.
Teacher Molaam crouches beside her when naptime is over and considers her quietly for a moment before tucking a blanket more snugly across her body and allowing her to continue sleeping.
You feel a strange sensation of something being “off”. Like the world is shifting beneath you, and you’re stumbling to right yourself. Vriska is troubled, her thoughts are disarranged and she smells like worry and fear.
You’re off for the rest of the day.
==>Terezi: Go home.
You’re relieved when Vriska’s mom is there to pick her up, happy for your friend when Vriska latches on to her mother like a growth, wrapping arms and legs around her. Vriska’s mother laughs and blows any teacherly concern off, walks out with her daughter clinging to her. It’s good, right?
You are silent when TigerMom picks you up. Your head feels tired. You can smell her concern and caring for you but you’re too...troubled to respond. You curl up in the back seat, closing your eyes.
“‘Rezi? Are you feeling okay, baby? Did something happen at school?” She’s helping you into your car seat, strapping you in, and she notices how tired and unhappy you look, so she takes your red blanket and wraps it cozily about you.
“...I just wanna go home, Momma.” You don’t know how to respond, you don’t know how to tell her that Vriska’s thoughts aren’t happy, that you think maybe her mom isn’t a great parent for her, and that maybe something happened to Vriska that wasn’t good. You don’t know how to tell her how worried you are, and aren’t adults supposed to know everything, and do things that are the right things? Sure, you know about criminals , but criminals aren’t parents , they’re not supposed to take care of kids, they’re not supposed to be your friends’ mothers and fathers , right?
TigerMom just looks at you and kisses your head. “...we’ll be home soon, and then there will be some dinner and bath time. Okay?”
You just nod and tug your blanket around yourself. For some reason, you seem so much colder right now.
You get home and you still can’t settle. You don’t eat much. You can’t deal with anything, and you disobey your mothers, and you’re in just a generally foul mood even while they’re bathing you. You can smell their concern, and a little bit of irritation and frustration, and your thoughts are circling in your head. You’ve never felt this way before. And nothing helps, not the shampoo, not the red comb in your black hair, nothing.
Your moms are concerned. They get you out of the bath and DragonMom sits you down in her lap, pulls you against her chest and kisses your head. “...come on, sweetie. Tell me what’s going on.”
You are so confused, so tired, and so upset. You promptly burst into tears. Your mom’s arms tighten around you and TigerMom goes to get you some soothing tea. While she’s holding you, she presses her lips gently against your hair.
"What is it, baby? You’re safe here, no one’s going to hurt you, but we do want to help you.” Her warm voice starts to untangle the awful, confusing feelings inside of you and you snuffle, calming despite your continuing confusion. “It’s all right, I promise, baby.”
"Here you are,” your other mother says, putting the warm tea into your hands. “Take a deep breath, and just sip the tea, sweetheart.”
You do as she says, because your mothers always know what to do for you, and slowly, you start to calm--and speak. And as you speak, your mothers look concerned at your description of Vriska, of her temperament, and then even more concerned when you tell her how...you could see what was in her mind, you could tell what she had done, was going to do. Seeing their concern makes you worry again, and you sip your tea, looking with big, tear filled eyes at them.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” DragonMom says, and you know that when she says that, that things really will be all right. Because she always tells you the truth. “...we will keep an eye on Vriska’s situation, but we have to be more concerned with you right now.”
You nod, your eyes wide. “But what if they’re not taking care of her right?” You sniffle. “What if her parents get in trouble and then who will take care of Vriska? What if they cull her and I never see her again?”
Your mothers look at each other. “...Dear? Where did you hear that word?” TigerMom reaches over to brush her fingers through your still-damp hair.
“I...I don’t remember.” You take another sip of your tea, “But if she gets in trouble they’ll cull her, Mamas. I’m scared.” You rub your eyes, and your lip trembles. “She’s going to get in trouble.”
DragonMom wraps her arms even tighter around you and rocks you, and you sigh. She reaches up with her soft fingertips and rubs at the base of your horns, and you shudder all over and relax. TigerMom takes the teacup out of your little hands and smiles at you.
“Things will be all right,” she says, her voice light and soothing, and you nod, letting your eyes shutter down. “No one is going to let anyone hurt a little baby troll. It’s against all of the rules of Earth.”
DragonMom keeps stroking your horns and rocking you, murmuring gentle words into your hair, and slowly, slowly, the nightmare your day has been fades from your mind and turns to dust, and blows away as you fall gentle into sleep.
You might not have a solution, but for now, you can let it go.
==>Be Vriska Serket
You mom coached you well when you got home, brushing through your hair gently and braiding it, murmuring softly into your tangled hair. She’d liked the story you told your teachers, wasn’t it so clever of you to think of it? Her words soothe your jangled nerves and you are so pleased that you sort of forget to ask her where she’s been for the past two days. The apartment is clean and smells like Pine-Sol. There’s more presents for you: a pirate sword, fairy wings, pretty blue ponytail holders that sparkle in the light.
“That’s my clever girl. You did real well, baby. Momma’s proud of you.” She cuddles you and coddles you, and makes you macaroni and cheese for dinner (as much as you want!) and lets you have bubbles in your bathwater and irons your favorite pretty fairy dress to wear the next day, even if it’s too cold for a cotton sundress. “We can put on your blue sweater over it, you’ll be warm as toast.” She puts Peter Pan in the DVD player and holds you as you watch, cradling you in her arms like a little wriggler, stroking your horns and kissing your head.
She croons to you and you purr, unable to help yourself. You are so relieved that she’s back and she wasn’t angry about the spilled milk on the floor (you’re too little to reach the paper towels!) and she wasn’t upset that you told a lie. She called you smart and good and darling little fairy girl and you are so...happy and contented right now. You’re so happy that you barely notice that Dad isn’t around. You don’t care.
And it’s not worth asking where she was. You want this happy little bubble to last.
==>Terezi: talk to Vriska?
The next day at school, you are stunned to see Vriska her happy old self again. You’re glad of course, but the buzz of worry is still fizzing in your stomach.
Vriska is talking to Aradia and Tavros, talking about a new game. Or it might be a new movie she saw last night. You don’t know. But her hair is braided around her horns and she is wearing a pretty white dress with her symbol on the front of it in cerulean, and blue leggings. She looks happy.
“Hey Vriska!” You hop up beside her and she slings an arm around you. “What’s the game?”
“Pirates! We are the Scourge Sisters, terror of the seas!” She grins at you and you grin back.
“And we are the Alternian law, come to bring you to justice!” Aradia exclaimed, while Tavros just grinned.
Everything seemed to be on an even keel at the moment, and you...maybe you can let this drop. Vriska seems so happy.
The remaining fear curling in the back of your head evaporates the first time Vriska laughs, wild and free. Everything is back to normal, and you are relieved.