Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Doctor Kirraman?" A voice pipes up from across the counter. Caitlyn looks up from the chart to see a young nurse, one of a dozen she's seen around the unit today. She doubts more than one will last a year.

"Yes?" Caitlyn asks, looking over the rim of her glasses.

"Sorry, still learning names around here." The nurse says, sliding her a manila folder. "Your new admit is here."

"Give me the rundown." Caitlyn replies, flipping to the tab in the folder marked for labs.

"Patient is a 47 year old transgender woman, assigned male at birth, admitted in the ER last night for what's thought to be a stroke. Patient has a history of brain cancer, and hasn't been conscious or responsive since she's been here. On a ventilator as we speak."

"I'm not seeing specifics here on her medical history." Caitlyn notes, seeing how bare bones the chart really is.

"We're waiting on the patient's medical records, apparently they've got quite a bit to sort through at the oncology clinic she's been going to. Long family history. Everything I have is from the home health nurse. Looks like brain cancer, the nurse mentioned something about side effects of meds she was on as a kid. She's been on a downward slope for a while now. The pacer in her chest is probably the only thing that kept her alive long enough to even get to the E.R.. Looks like she was going through the process of getting set up for hospice, but the partner was dragging her feet, hadn't quite gone through with it before all this happened." Caitlyn sighs and shakes her head.

"So instead of dying at home she's braindead in one of our beds. Did they not factor the hospice care into her being admitted?"

"They did, but the partner is... Pushy." Caitlyn quirks a brow. "From the sounds of it, she threatened legal action, and also to break the E.R. doctor's knees."

"Wonderful." Caitlyn sighs and can already tell this is going to be a migraine inducer. "Well, suppose I should lay eyes on the patient then. Anything else of note so far?"

"Nothing yet. Apologies doctor, every facility we contact has been acting strange when we reach out for this woman's records, or I would have more to report."

"Not to worry, I understand. Just notify me when we have more to go off of." The nurse nods and Caitlyn makes her way to the listed room number. She knocks on the glass door to the room, and hears a cough on the other side. Caitlyn hears the ventilator hissing from the hall.

"Come in." A gruff woman's voice responds, and Caitlyn can hear the fatigue in it. She slides open the door and the privacy curtain, to see an all too familiar face sat in the bedside chair.

"Violet?" Caitlyn says before she can think. She changed a lot in the 25 years since they'd last seen each other. The years hadn't been kind to her.

Her face is carved with the type of worry lines and wrinkles that marked a rough life. Some Cait remembers, like the scar across her lip she said came from a bad run in with a foster parent when she was in her late teens, but so many more were new. There was one scar in her eyebrow that looked especially nasty.

Her hair was trimmed short with just enough for it to be slicked back. It was almost entirely grey at the temples, giving her a salt and paprika esc look. Deep black bags hung under her eyes like a noose under gallows, giving away her lack of sleep.

Her clothes were disheveled, old work pants and a pale blue T-shirt clung tight to her flat chest. Her old canvas jacket was stained with God knows how many colors.

"Well shit, guess med school worked out for you, then." Vi says without thinking, trying to wipe the tired from her eyes as she sits up straighter in her chair. "Sorry, I mean uh... Hello, Doctor." She shrugs, like that's all she has to give.

Caitlyn should walk away. She should leave and be done with this. With their history, it'd be an ethical nightmare for her to continue.

But she just sighs. She'd cared for Violet once, a long time ago, and God forgive her, the butch looked absolutely pitiful.

"No, you're fine. From the sounds of things, you’ve been through quite a bit. I just came to do my assessment." Vi nods.

"Of course. Do I need to leave the room or anything?"

"You're fine where you are. If you want to step out, you're okay too, but I do have some questions if you're able to answer."

"Of course." It’s only then that Cait notices her hand hasn't left the patient's bed the entire time they've been speaking, clasped onto the hand of the woman laying there unconscious, one calloused thumb rubbing along her knuckles.

God Caitlyn hadn't seen Jinx in decades.

She looks so much more peaceful than the last time they saw each other. For all the difficulties the nurse described in her life, her face doesn't show it having worn her down.

Her skin is smooth and pale, giving her an almost ghostly, angelic look to her. It was only challenged by the thin blue veins tracing their way under her skin like a spider web. She was skinny, but not gaunt. Her hair is just a shade or two lighter than Caitlyn’s, and it's tied into two messy, disheveled braids that hang over the top of the bed.

Caitlyn starts with the basics, checking lungs sounds and vitals as she speaks again. "We're having trouble getting ahold of her medical records. I know she has been dealing with brain cancer. Can you give me any more details?"

Vi nods and clears her throat, thumb still tracing the woman's knuckles. "The cancer popped up about half a decade ago. We had some luck at first, chemo and stuff helped. She was in remission for a while, but it came back about 2 years ago.”

“The home health nurse reported some issues with medications as a kid?”

“Yeah, uh… She got into a lot of trouble when she was young. They put her on these pills some quack told em would make sure she was a good obedient little girl." Caitlyn can practically hear the gritting of Vi's teeth, the hand not thumbing Powder's knuckles clenched into a white knuckled fist. She breathes for a second before continuing. "From everything the docs have said, the medication even back then was known as something you don't stay on long term, and the buildup of it over years and years, made her a lot more at risk for, well, everything that got us here."

"I see." While checking her pulse, Caitlyn notices a tattoo along the inside of Powder's arm, wispy pale clouds, going up her inner forearm and around the elbow, disappearing into the sleeve of the gown. Had she not moved her wrist, oshe'd have missed it entirely.

“Here, I need to see her other arm. Tattoos like hers can interfere with the vein finder if we need to place another i.v. quickly.” Vi complies, moving her hand from Powder’s and allowing Caitlyn to see another tattoo of whirling gears and sprockets, this one trailing down her whole forearm, over the top of her hand, wrapping around her ring finger. There's a spot in the very middle that seems to have been sloppily filled in.“Hmmm, well, I suppose we will just hope this i.v. holds up. Must be quite fond of machines for a tattoo like that." She finds herself observing idley.

"She got it for me. Wanted one to match mine." Vi adds with a chuckle, rolling up the sleeve of her jacket to show a similar whirling gear tattoo on her right forearm.

“Still a mechanic, then?”

"Yes ma’am. Got myself a little shop out near the edge of the city. Quite the upgrade from being an oil jockey at your old man’s shop, eh?" Caitlyn chuckles, a bit amazed Vi has the energy for a joke.

"Quite so. Loris was irate at having to replace you." Vi tenses a bit, and her hand returns to holding Powder’s. It's then that Caitlyn notices the hand that isn't thumbing Powder's knuckles has its own embellishments of ink, whispy blue clouds just like the patient's forearm, drifting lazily over scarred knuckles to wrap around her ring finger.

"Yeah... I really am sorry about all that. Family needed help, and… well, you don't give up on family." Vi looks between her and Jinx on the bed, and Cait sighs.

"I didn't mean it like that, I swear. We have more to worry about now." Caitlyn pulls a penlight, and shines it in both of Powder's eyes, opening the lids with her fingers. No reaction, from her or her pupils, which stay a stagnent black island in the midst of an icy blue lake.

Caitlyn swallows hard and Vi's shoulders slump. "We have a standard course of tests we run on patients going through these kinds of situations. I'll get the orders placed and we can get those running. There's always hope." She tries to offer reassuringly, but she can read it plainly that her words fall on deaf ears.

"You don't have to lie to me, doc..." Her voice cracks before she can finish her sentence. "I know what this is. She saw it coming a long ways away… I just never had the stomach to face it like she could."

Caitlyn sighs and puts her stethoscope over her shoulders. "Would you like me to get our chaplain then? We could discuss a plan for-" for the end. That's what she wants to say, but the words don't manage to come out. Vi shakes her head, almost violently.

"No. Run your tests, All of em. If there's any fancy experimental shit you can try, try it." Caitlyn can't help but furrow her brow at the whiplash.

"Violet, the costs-" She's interrupted yet again.

"I don't care what it costs, do everything you can. If there's a sliver of a chance..." Vi hesitates for a moment, and Cait wonders if she even believes what she's saying until she sighs and shakes her head. "I need to Know, really know, beyond any shadow of a doubt. Or I... I could never forgive myself." She squeezes Powder's hand, and Caitlyn sees a tear snake down her cheek. “God, Isha is still away at school… the time will help. I know I don't really have much room to ask favors of you, but please, just… anything we can try.” Vi looks at her like she's begging for her own life.

"I'll get things ordered."

Vi nods. "Thank you." Her voice cracks again, and all Cait can offer is a pat on the shoulder.

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Cup of cot and a coffee?" Vi says, before quickly correcting herself. It seems the hours were finally catching up to her.

"I'll have a CNA bring those down in a few minutes. Still take it black?"

"No, lots of cream and sugar if possible." Vi says, looking at Jinx with a tired smile, some inside joke Caitlyn doesn't get to know.

What else is new?

And so Caitlyn returns to her work. She does her rounds with the clinical team, works with the various students and doctors in their residencies, and finds herself being pulled to-and-from for the entire rest of the day.

It's several hours later the next time she even passes by her newest admit’s room, and by then Violet is sound asleep on a ragged old cot set up right alongside Powder’s bed, the two still hand in hand.

It seemed the insurance companies were determined to ensure testing for Jinx took as long as possible. Every test she tried to order required some sort of paperwork or prior authorization. She sat there, God only knows how many hours into her shift, filling out one form after another when she found her mind wandering.

She was 23, and barely at that. Still in her pre-med with an ungodly amount of homework to do and so little energy to do it. The university she’d chosen for her undergrad was nestled into a sleepy little town in Michigan named Thebes. Nonetheless, her family still managed to own a few businesses in the area. One such business was a quaint little diner that Caitlyn ate at far more often than she'd like to admit. It was the typical small town diner, obsessively themed around the 50s, soda shop aesthetic right down to the paper hats and the jukebox.

Caitlyn sat at a table, books splayed out with a mostly eaten plate of eggs and toast in front of her. It couldn't have been earlier than 11 at night, the entire diner was a ghost town save for a few truckers stopping on their way through.

Caitlyn chewed on a piece of toast, her eggs just finished. She was reading about advanced lung cancer or something like that when she got the strangest sense of being watched.

She looked up from her book to see Violet’s eye fixed on her, paused half way through bussing a table across the diner. She looked pale and startled, and Caitlyn had to look back over her shoulder to ensure there wasn't a ghost behind her. Nothing to be seen, she turned back to the woman.

Caitlyn quirked her brow questioningly as they made eye contact, and Vi snapped her head away, looking back at her table. Her hair was long and shaggy, more akin to some grunge drummer than any ladylike haircut. It was pulled back into a messy ponytail that showed a cigarette tucked behind her ear. Her smock was dirty to a frankly concerning degree, and the tight black T-shirt she wore didn't seem to fare much better. Cait could see seams under her shirt, owed to her binder.

Caitlyn didn't make much of it. She didn't recognize the butch, so it was likely she was just some fresh hire who was scared to see the owner’s daughter in the building. She returned to her studies and toast.

A few minutes later, Vi swung by her table, swiping her empty plate away. “Need anything else?”

“I thought you were a busser. Shouldn't the waitress be the one asking me that?” Caitlyn asked, absentmindedly, still reading.

“Yeah, well I'm pretty sure our waitress is in the deepfreeze with the line cook. So I think you'll have to settle for me for the moment.” Vi said, and the brazenness of it all caught Caitlyn so off guard she couldn't help but laugh. It was the worst, cackling little laugh that always made her self conscious, but Vi just chuckled along with her.

“You must not know who I am if you're going to rat on your coworkers so easily.” Caitlyn observed, looking for a name tag on Vi's shirt and seeing none.

“You must not be used to being subtle, if you're willing to ogle me when I'm looking right at you.” Caitlyn guffawed at the insinuation as Vi continued. “But no, I don't know you from Eve. Why, should I?” Caitlyn, still reeling from the previous barb, had to fight the urge to scoff.

“Caitlyn Kirraman.” She said, offering her hand, grinning smugly as she added “my father owns this diner.”

“Violet Dollanganger. Friends call me Vi.” She replies, shaking Caitlyn's hand with a firm grip and calloused fingers. Even then, Caitlyn noticed scars on her knuckles. “And uh, please don't rat on my coworkers about the deepfreeze bit. Ekko is a good dude, and Skye is a real sweetheart.”

“You're the one bandying their business around to customers.” Caitlyn pointed out with a chuckle, leaning back into her seat. Violet chews her cheek.

“To be fair, all the prissy college girls tip well if you give em some juicy drama.”

“Prissy?” Caitlyn asked, appalled. “You certainly are good at putting your foot in your mouth. How did you even manage to get through the interview here?”

“I'm one of the only people in this town that isn't either going to or working at the college.” Vi points out with a smug chuckle. “You can get away with a lot if you're the only option.”

“Are you really willing to test that?”

“Nope, but I'm already this deep in, so I figure, might as well just keep digging and see if I can pop out on the other side of the world.” Vi said, setting her massive bucket of dishes on an unoccupied table, leaning against it and crossing her arms.

“I see. Well, if the line cook is occupied, I guess I'll have to settle for some coffee.”

“I can bring food if you want. It's a stovetop, not rocket science. And I'm not too bad of a cook.”

“Hmmm, fine. I'll take a steak and fries.” Vi arched a brow at her.

“After all those eggs?” Caitlyn shot her a look and Vi swallowed. “How do you want that steak?”

“Rare, but not blue. And please, for the love of God, season it well.”

“Coming up.”

Caitlyn returned to her studies and after some time reading about intracranial pressure variance, Violet reappeared with a plate stacked tall with fries and a cheap cut of steak typically seen in a diner.

Vi set it down and was about to walk away when Caitlyn held up a finger. “Wait just a moment. I wanna see if this holds up to your boasting before you scurry off.” Caitlyn cut into the steak, at the very least it looked properly cooked. Not too blue that it should still be mooing, but not dry like it could've turned out.

Caitlyn popped it into her mouth, and she could see Vi's hand twitch in anticipation.

Caitlyn looked at Vi as she swallowed the bite, relishing seeing the smartass nervous.

“Alright, I'll admit, you’ve impressed me.” Caitlyn said, crossing her legs under the table. “But, you missed something.”

“What?” Vi asked, looking back at the steak.

“My coffee.” Caitlyn couldn't help her grin. Vi rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“How d’you take it?”

“Black, and brewed strong. Bring an extra mug.”

“Gotcha, still a cheap shot. My cooking is fuckin delicious.”

“It's good for diner food.” Caitlyn specified.

“Well that's cus I have diner grade ingredients.” Vi quipped back.

“It's a poor chef who blames their ingredients.”

“Yeah well, poor is exactly how I’d describe the ingredients your old man makes us stock.” Vi shot back. Caitlyn can remember the little crooked smile she wore back then, all bravado and confidence. Oh so pleased with her little joke.

“The coffee?” Caitlyn reminded, and Vi grinned as she walked back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned with two mugs and a fresh pot of coffee. Just from the smell, Caitlyn could tell it was brewed strong. “Good. Now sit, and take these.” Caitlyn slid her a stack of note cards.

“Excuse me?” Vi asked with a quirked brow.

“No, you're not excused. I said sit. I need help with these cards, and unless I'm mistaken there's no tables needing bussed at the moment. Though if you want anything for your coffee, grab it now.” Vi stared at her for a moment, some debate boiling in her head for a moment before she finally took her seat. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped it. She removed a flask from her apron and poured a shot or two in.

“Guess I can't go pissing off the boss’s daughter. But uh, we can just call this my lunch break.” She offered as her excuse, taking the stack of flash cards and showing her one.

“Good thinking. Tardive dyskinesia.” Caitlyn answered.

“Is that how you pronounce that?” Vi asked, showing the card. “Fucking hell.”

They sat there for the better part of two hours, well into the return of the waitress. She seemed confused, but Caitlyn recognized the girl and she knew who Caitlyn was, so she was smart enough not to disturb them.

The first hour was occupied by studying. The second, markedly less so.

“What the fuck is an anal prolapse?” Vi asked incredulously as she read the title of the card.

“A very unpleasant conversation topic.” Caitlyn replied over the rim of her coffee mug before taking a sip. Vi flipped the card over and read the definition before going pale and putting the cards down.

“What kind of fucked up degree are you going for?”

“Pre-med, and it's not “fucked up”. It's an essential part of ensuring people receive proper care that I understand these sorts of symptoms.”

“So what, you're going to be an ass doctor then?” Caitlyn rolled her eyes.

“No you neanderthal. And the word is proctologist. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going just yet. I want to specialize in neurology, people's spines and brains and such, or perhaps Oncology.”

“I know that one. My old man saw one of those when I was real young. Cancer doc, right?”

“Yes, correct. Was your father older? It's surprising he would need that kind of care so young.”

“Not sure. Might have just been a scare. Never told me what it was about. I was only a kid back then and uh… he passed not long afterward. Nothing to do with cancer, though. A bad fire in our apartment.”

Caitlyn was flabbergasted by the ease with which Vi said that, as if she were commenting on the weather.

“I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“Don't be. I've had a long time to get over it. Shit happens, the world is fucked up like that.” Vi said with a shrug, downing the last of her mug and topping it off.

“What about your mother?”

“Didn't make it out either.” Vi admitted.

“Did you have any siblings?”

“Look, I really would rather not talk about this anymore. Tell me about you.” Vi gestures at her and leans back in her seat. “Kirraman is a big name. How'd you end up in this Podunk shithole?”

“I'll have you know we have one of the best premed programs in the world here in this “Podunk shithole”. And it's a very nice town if you give it a chance.”

“Yeah but I know for a fact you’re not planning to stay here once you're done with that program. I'm only here cus my brothers asked me to come.” Vi said pointedly, and she did indeed have a point.

“Well, no. I wasn't.” Vi grinned at her.

“So, why medicine? Name like yours, I'm sure you could land some cushy corpo gig with your daddy’s business. You’d make a tidy living and never have to work a hard day in your life.”

“Because I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like much of a life at all.”

“Agree to disagree. The shit I would do for that kind of “fuck you” money is unreal.”

“I want to help people, really help people, not just donate to a few charities. Medicine lets me do that.”

“Well, that's admirable. Fuckin hate charity. Spent most of my life in foster homes and I'd see all these big rich guys donating to this or that charity. “Oh this 10 million dollar donation will help so many foster families have a merry Christmas” or some feel good horse shit. Meanwhile, nothing changes.” Caitlyn chuckled at the snobby voice Vi impersonated, and that seemed to draw a smile out of her.

“It's all for tax breaks anyway. You donate a few million, and save several times that come the end of the year.”

“Aren't you worried about getting whacked over spilling the secrets of the wealthy and powerful?” Vi teased, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Unlikely. Besides, who cares what some busboy in a “Podunk shithole” college town knows?” Vi chuckled at that and shook her head.

“Ouch, that one hurt. But, fair.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want to do with your life? I can't imagine the diner is exactly your life's work.” Caitlyn gestured to the 90’s style faux 50’s aesthetic surrounding them. Vi sighed and stared at her coffee for a moment, like she was hoping she'd find the answer in the grounds at the bottom of the cup.

“I'm not quite sure. It's kinda why I'm here. Didn't have time to think about the future when I was in the system. Mostly just focused on keeping myself sane and alive. I had some ideas, but they were never really planned out all that well, and they kinda fell through last year. Ekko, the line cook, he's like family to me. He came out here to get into trade school. So now… I don't know, I guess I'm kinda trying to figure out what's next for me from here.” Vi shrugged and took another drink of her coffee.

“Are you good at anything?” Caitlyn asked. “Besides cooking a diner steak.” She clarified, only to receive a smug grin in response.

“I'm good at quite a lot of things.”

Caitlyn couldn't help but roll her eyes. “Flirting clearly not being one of them.” Vi faked offense.

“Why I never! I have no idea what you are talking about. I’d never dream of flirting with an heiress so far above my station.” Vi said in what she probably thought was a good impression of Caitlyn's accent, a hand pressed dramatically to her forehead as if she might faint.

Caitlyn kicked her under the table and the act fell away. Vi settled back into her leisurely lean in her chair as she continued. “Relax princess, I was meaning like, practical skills. I'm decent with a tool box when it comes to grunt maintenance. Worked a lot of under the table construction gigs when I was a teenager. Mechanics is my specialty though. Had a good gig fixing up cars for a while when I started living with this family that owned a junkyard. But never bothered to look into working an actual shop.” Vi said with a shrug.

“I could see you being a rather good fit for a mechanic.”

“Can't tell if that's meant to be a compliment or a dig.”

Caitlyn hears a call light off in the distance.

“It was a compliment.” Caitlyn specified, and Vi grinned from ear to ear.

“Well thank you. But like I said, still figuring out if that's where I want to go in life. Besides, I don't even know how to get started actually doing that as a career.” Vi shrugged.

“Keep it in mind. I mean, seeing how lacking your customer service skills are, maybe an auto shop would work better for you.” The waitress giggled at Caitlyn’s barb, and Vi was quick to reply.

“Hey Skye, don't you have something to go track down in the deep freeze?” The waitress glared at Vi before walking back into the kitchen area.

“Maybe I could get you a job at the shop here in town. My father owns it as well.” Vi looked at her, eyes squinted in suspicion.

“I told you, Hun, I'm not one for charity.”

“I never said it would be for your sake. Clearly your customer service skills being what they are, it'd be a benefit to my father to get you under a car rather than gabbing on with his clientele.” Caitlyn offered teasingly. Vi still didn't seem to trust her, but she seemed to calm down slightly.

“I mean, It’d sure beat having to work here. Ekko is only here to pay his way until he gets through trade school enough for the on-the-job training bit.” Caitlyn went to drink more coffee, but found her cup empty. She held the empty mug out toward Vi, who was already in the process of pouring herself another cup.

Vi went to pour the cup, but the table wabbled a bit, moving Cait’s arm, resulting in Vi dumping at least half a cups worth of lukewarm coffee directly into Caitlyn’s lap.

The two shot up from their seats in a mess of swear words and napkins. Vi apologized profusely, hesitant to try and help Caitlyn pat herself dry.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry.” Vi said as Caitlyn finished drying it to the best of her ability.

“No, no you're fine. It happens. It's late, you're tired, I get it. Don't worry, your job is safe.” Caitlyn assured.

Caitlyn hears a call bell ring in the distance.

“Thats not what I'm fuckin worried about. Let me make it up to you. Anyway I can. Got a car that needs fixing or something?” She offered half heartedly, seeming to have realized how uninspired that sounded mid sentence.

“No, I ride a bicycle on and off campus.”

“Cool, cool, eco friendly and shit.” Vi chuckled nervously to herself, scratching the back of her head. “Seriously though, that shit looks expensive, and ruined, let me do something to make up for it.”

Caitlyn thought for a moment, and made a decision. “Fine. You said you're a good cook when you're properly equipped. Show me. Cook me dinner some time? A proper dinner that is.” Vi arched a brow at her, then smiled.

“Sounds good to me. You got a sweet tooth?”

“I do in fact. I'm quite fond of cupca-”

Caitlyn hears the call bell go off again, snapping her attention from her recollections and back to the inside of the hospital she currently calls her prison. No nurses or CNAs are sat at the nurses station, and Caitlyn realizes it's shift change for both teams. She, unfortunately, still has several hours in her shift.

But, she decides to step up and be a good team member. She walks down to the light, if only to ensure it's not something urgent.

She knocks on the door to Powder’s room and hears a groggy “come in” from Violet. She finds Vi back in the chair beside the bed. Her salt-and-Paprika hair is messy and unkempt. “Oh, hey doc. Sorry, I just needed a hairbrush. I tried using the comb I found in the bathroom supplies but uh, it broke.” Vi holds up two pieces to a cheap plastic comb.

“Here, I don't think we have anything in storage, but I have a brush I keep in my locker for my own emergencies.” Caitlyn retrieves the brush and hands it to Vi.

“Thank you. Her hair can be a bit… unruly.” She stands and walks over to Powder’s bed. Caitlyn sees one undone braid hanging loose, the other still intact but messy. “She loves her long hair, especially after starting treatment, but can’t stand it being in her face. It's been that way since she was a kid. Even her bangs drive her crazy if they get too long.” Vi chuckles quietly to herself, slipping behind the bed as she starts brushing out the undone braid.

“Since she was a kid?” Caitlyn can't help but notice that comment, eyes flitting to the door where some nurses are walking past and back to Vi. “You two must have known each other quite a long time.” Vi's eyes shoot up to meet Caitlyn’s, and she smiles for just a second before returning to her brushing.

“Sure did. We grew up in this little mining town called Zaun. Most everyone we knew lived in the same apartment building close to the mines, and it was the type of town where everyone knew everyone.” Vi shakes her head. “She was my best friend growing up, kind of my only friend, besides Ekko. The fire, it didn't just hit my parents. The whole apartment building went up in smoke. Powder was sleeping over in my room when it all went down.”

Vi choked on the smoke as she woke up. She could feel it tearing at her airway as she lurched out of her bed, falling onto the ground and dragging the soft flannel bedspread off with her. Powder was barely 4, now in the bed alone.

Vi heard screaming in the distance, muffled by the walls, the smoke and the roaring of flames. She couldn't understand why everything hurt so badly, her lungs, her body, her eyes, everything was in pain. She ran to the door, and the knob was so damn hot she has to yank her hands away before she could even try to turn it. She only realized years after the fact that probably saved both their lives.

“Mommy! Daddy!” She screamed, tears tearing at her eyes. It was getting harder to breathe already. She barked out a cough, choking as dark clouds flooded her lungs. She tried the door again, but couldn't get past the pain, thank God.

“Fi?” Powder whimpered from the bed, wiping her eyes. She looked around, confused, and starts to curl into herself. “W-whats going on?”

“I don't… I don't know…” Vi choked out, coughing harder.

“Fi, I'm scared.”

“I'll fix it.” Vi ran to the window as her last hope. But it had been painted shut long before they ever got there. They hadn't been able to get them open the last two summers, no matter how hard they tried or how hot the apartment got. That day was no different.

She slapped at the window with a weak hand, then a sloppy fist, unsurprisingly failing. She grabbwd the biggest book off the shelf, “Bible” written across the front in ornate gold, and flung it into the window, only for it to bounce off with a weak thud.

She grabbed the next thing she saw, a little brown box, metal and wood, painted in light blue and white clouds. Their mom had kept trinkets in it when Vi was Powder's age. Now it was just clutter. Vi gripped it in her hands and ran at the window, hitting it with everything she could.

The glass cracks.

“Fi, stop! Mommy will be mad!” Powder sobbed, curled in a ball on the bed, smoke in her eyes leaving tears rolling down her cheeks. Vi smashed the window on her fifth hit, her arms screaming at her in exhaustion. The box clattered out of her hands and the window onto the ground below. Vi gasped for fresh air, but she could feel the heat getting worse.

“Powpow, come here!” Powder wouldn't move, frozen in fear. Vi clamered over the tiny bed to her, grabbing her and trying to pull her up onto Vi’s back.

“Fi, I'm scared!” Powder sobs as she tries to squirm from Vi's grasp.

“Powpow, I need you to trust me.” Vi begged, grabbing Powder’s hands. “I promise, I'll keep you safe. I'll always keep you safe. But you need to trust me.”

Powder stared at her, but she nodded. Vi pulled her on like a backpack, carrying her sister to the shattered window.

The shards of glass on the bottom of the windowsill tear into Vi’s knuckles as she tried to get a grip to pull them through. She let out a cry, before she can stop it.

“Fi?” Powder asks from her back, tears dripping down her chin onto her sister’s shoulders. Vi hid the wounds as best she couls, forcing herself forward. The glass carved a gash into her shirt and chest, into the knuckles and palms of her hands, into her shins.

But then they're out, falling onto the foliage outside their window, next to a popped open keepsake box, along with the lighter and scattered garbage that had filled it.

Vi heard something in the distance, screaming.

She grasped for what she could, Powder, the box, and the lighter. She pulled them all to her chest and dragged herself out of the bushes.

She made it maybe 15 feet before she collapsed. The screaming was only getting louder. Powder sobbed, choking and gasping in her arms, as Vi realized in horror that she recognized the voices.

She heard her name, and Powder’s. She heard her parents screaming.

Vi covered Powder’s ears with her bloodied hands as the screaming got louder and louder, until it felt like it was shrieking directly into her head. Powder tried to pull away, but Vi held her hands over her ears until the screaming stopped. Blood dripped down Powder’s cheeks.

“Fi?” Powder asked from her chest.

“It'll be okay Powder. I'll keep you safe. I promise.” She replied, unthinking, staring at the flames as they poured out of the bedroom window they had crawled out of. Vi watched the blaze lick away any trace of the blood they'd left there to ash. Vi coughed her lungs out. She could remember the feeling of the smoke clinging inside her chest.

A pair of double doors were thrown open in the distance, a choking, coughing man with short cropped black hair stumbling out, followed by a small crowd of other survivors. He saw them and rqn to them.

“Violet! Powder! Thank God you two are okay.” Silco choked out as he pulled them into his arms. “Violet, where are your parents? Ekko? Benzo?”

Violet just stared into the flames, blinding muttering to powder that she'd keep her safe.

“Ekko was being raised by his uncle at the time… the three of us lost everything. Me and Powder were lucky at first, got shipped to the same orphanage. Ekko ended up out in Colorado.” Vi speaks as if she doesn’t even realize the words are still coming out of her mouth, focus solely on the hair in her hands as she brushes it out and starts to braid. “I'm sorry, this isn't important. You probably have a ton of shit to do. I shouldn't keep you. I'll uh, I'll find you when I am done with the brush.”

“No, no Vi you're fine. If you need to talk, I'm here.” Caitlyn assures, holding up a small pager. “I've got this if anyone needs to contact me. You're not interrupting.” It’s a lie, she knows that. Caitlyn has no idea why she hasn't done the smart thing and notified her supervisor of a need to reassign this particular patient, but here she still is, despite everything.

Vi chews her cheek and nods. “Okay… Thank you. It's hard, not having anyone to talk to. She's been the one I told everything the last 25 years, and now…” Vi swallows hard, and Caitlyn pretends not to see the tears.

“Want to tell me more? You never told me about your childhood when we were…”

Vi smiles. It's a sad, tired small but it's something. Caitlyn isn't a good therapist, but this woman is a friend, right? She had been, once. She'd been so many things once.

If nothing else, she was the family of a patient, and Caitlyn prides herself on her bedside manner. She has to at least try. Though she can just hear the ethics board throwing a fit over this in her head.

“Yeah… she uh, she and I were in the same orphanage, like I said. It was the one nice thing, having her there with me. She was shy as a kid, didn't like people and people just didn't seem to like her. Did I ever tell you about the time I first hurt someone? You know, on purpose?” Caitlyn shakes her head no. “Yeah I guess I probably wouldn't have huh… well, I was 8, Powder was maybe 5. We'd only been in for a little while by then…”

Violet sat on the bark in what could charitably be called a playground, but more accurately was called a death trap unfit for human usage. Loose bolts, splinters, and stabbing hazards abound. It was a shoddy neighborhood park next door to the orphanage that they called home, which was in about as good of a state. She had a god awful bowl cut and held an old battered copy of a book about King Arthur. Powder scribbled crayon on paper on the concrete, each stroke carrying the texture of the rock into her doodles.

“Fi, look!” Powder said, holding up her paper to show a doodle on her page.

“Oooooh, good pirate! He's got a nice hat!” Vi said over the top of her book.

“No silly! It's a monster Look, that's his teeth.” Powder said, pointing to what Vi had assumed was hair. “There's blood on em!” Vi had assumed it was very colorful hair.

“Oh, uh, It's great Powpow!” Vi lied, looking back to her book as Powder beamed at her. Vi felt her stomach rumble and looked around to find the decrepit old crone that had been tasked with keeping them alive. “Stay here. I need to poop.” Vi said, awkwardly pushing herself out of the bark.

“Miss Gracy says you should say you're going number two.” Powder corrected, proudly.

“Fine, I need to poop number 2.” Vi said, walking to the other side of the playground.

She still couldn't find that old lady who was supposed to be watching them. She saw a few boys, maybe a couple years older than her, off playing in the grass, but not the actual chaperone. But Vi figured if she wasn't there to see them, she wouldn't be there to get mad at Vi for walking off.

Vi knew something was wrong when she walked out of the bathroom and everything was quiet. The boys who had been roughhousing in the grass were gone. Vi worried she had been left behind, and ran back to where she had left Powder.

By the time she got there, one of them was holding Powder's drawings overhead while Powder hopped uselessly, not even coming up to his elbows at the highest point “Give it back! That's mine!” She yelled from the middle of the group, tears already welling in her eyes.

“Oh what, gonna cry about it crybaby?” one boy asked, dangling the paper over Powder’s head.

“Go ahead, cry over your little monster you freak.” Another boy jeered.

Vi stomped up to one boy and tried to shove him. “Leave her alone you jerk!” The boy turned to face her and shoved her over with a single hand as if she weighed nothing.

“Dude, whatever. You two weirdos creep me out.” He said, turning back to Powder and the others. “Come on guys, this blows.”

The tallest one sighed. “Yeah, these freaks are no fun.” He said as he tore Powder’s drawing and threw it on the ground. Powder only cried harder, trying and failing to punch him in the leg. “Don't fucking hit me you runt.” He said, smacking Powder in the back of the head, sending her stumbling onto the ground, her face hitting the concrete with a wet crunch as she cried even louder.

Vi saw red. She reached for something, anything, and came back with a rock. It was big and seemed to always want to tip her over to one side of the other, but Vi managed to keep control of it just long enough to run at the tallest boy and heave it square into his kneecap. The boy went down with his own sickening crunch, hollering in pain like Vi hadn’t heard before. A folding knife clattered out of his pocket and onto the ground at Powder's feet.

While the other boys were freaking out, Vi snatched up the knife and tried to grab Powder and run, but her sister was clutching her face, blood pouring out of her nose, and in all the commotion, the chaperone finally decided to make herself seen.

“Fi?” Powder asked, stepping into their room a few hours later. Her trouble pronouncing Vs wasn't helped by her injured nose.

“Yeah Powpow, what's up?”

“You didn't go to dinner…”

“Yeah, I'm in trouble, remember?”

Thanks to Powder being inconsolable, and being outnumbered three to one, the chaperone deemed Vi the trouble maker and told her no dinner for a week, and increased chores for a whole month.

“I know… but…” Powder walked over to Vi's bed, and pulled a napkin out of the pocket of her skirt. Inside was a few slices of some sort of mystery meat, and a single chocolate kiss. “Thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't help.”

“Of course, Powpow. Just be careful, this could get you in big trouble.”

“Don't worry! I was really sneaky. No one saw.” Violet smiled from ear to ear and scarfed the meat down. It was half cold, and hard, and the chocolate had melted on it, but she wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world.

After she finished the food, Powder set a small piece of paper on the bed in front of her. Vi opened it to see one of Powder’s doodles.

“That's a great monster, Powpow.” VI said with a grin.

“No silly, it's you! You’re a knight, like in your book.” Vi looked at the scribble again from another angle, and still couldn't see it. Too many limbs, too many colors. Jinx points at one part. “That's you, that's your hair, and that's me behind you.”

“It's great, Powder.” Vi said as she finally managed to see it, like one of those weird posters where you have to cross your eyes for it to make sense. Powder fidgeted with her fingers for a moment.

“Can I stay with you?” Powder asked. Vi lifted the blankets up, and powder climbed right in alongside her. Just like she had every night since they'd gotten there. Just like they would every night after until they were torn apart.

Vi felt the pocket knife pressed between her hip and the bed.

She'd keep her sister safe, she swore to herself.

Of course she doesn’t say that part out loud to Caitlyn. Caitlyn smiles at Vi, who is just about finished with the first braid. “You protected her. That's very sweet of you.”

“I had to. She was small, even for her age. She was quiet, and drew monsters, everyone thought she was crazy. But I mean, we can look back now and see what it was, just a kid with trauma trying to cope with something she never should've had to face.” Vi finishes the first braid with a hair tie and starts to undo the second. “Course it was a double edged sword. I kept her safe, but with how many fights I ended up in, I got a bad reputation fast. Angry, violent older kids aren't exactly the first pick for adoptions. But Powder? She was a cute kid, quiet, no reputation other than the whole monster thing. She got snapped up quick.” Vi pauses her unbraiding to take a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but even then Caitlyn can still hear the icy edge creep into her voice. “She begged the family that adopted her, the Foxworths, to take me too. Begged and cried for hours, but they said I would be a bad influence.” She shakes her head. “Said I could hurt her, or someone else. Said they didn't want my bad attitude causing more harm than it already had.” By the end of that sentence her teeth are clenched so tight Caitlyn worries she will hear them crack.

Finally Vi lets go of the hair and steps out from behind the bed. “I can't braid while I talk about this. I’m gonna get pissed and accidentally yank or something.” Vi collapses back into her chair, leaving the one braid finished and the other only half undone. Violet reaches out and clasps Powder’s hand in her own as she takes a steadying breath. “They managed to coax her out of our room while I was asleep.”

Vi didn't know why she woke up that morning. Something in her just knew Powder was gone. Maybe she felt that snake bitch Miss Gracey shaking Powder in her arms and it took her time to wake up and realize. Maybe she heard her talking to Powder, telling her they needed to talk about something. Maybe she felt Powder's crawl out of their shared bed in the orphanage dorms.

Either way, her eyes tore open to an empty room and an empty bed. Powder was gone, nowhere to be seen. Vi scrambled out from under the blankets, knife still in her pocket like it was most nights since she's gotten it. She stuffed her feet into her ratty boots and didn't even bother lacing them as she ran down the hall, hollering for Powder.

She ran into Clagor. He was a nice but awkward boy, and she stopped dead as she ran into his massive frame.

“Clagor, have you seen Powder?”

“Yeah, Gracey is standing with her out front. She's got a bag and everything. What happened, you sleep in again? You're gonna be late.”

Vi was already taking off down the hall to the front gates. The security guard, Marcus, hollered for her to stop as she ran toward the front door, but she was out before he could get his ass out of his seat.

Miss Gracy was 7 feet tall, all bones, and had a beak-like nose that Vi had never seen in any position other than being stuck up in the air. When Vi saw her, she was stood next to the loading and unloading zone of the parking lot with a scared Powder by her side, an iron grip on her hand even as the young girl struggled against her grip.

“Gracey, you dumb cunt, you're not taking her away!”

“Vi!” Powder squealed, finally wrenching her hand from Gracey’s grasp, running to Vi and all but jumping in her arms.

“Violet, we talked about this. I know you're upset, but there's nothing to be done. Everything is finalized.” The nasally bitch winged as she looked to Powder. “Powder, dear. Come here this instant.”

“Fuck you you raggedy bitch, you're not taking her away!” Vi shouted, stepping back as Gracey stepped closer. She reached for Powder and Vi slapped her hand away. Gracey looked aghast at her. At the same time a fancy looking car pulled into the loading zone, and Marcus finally hauled himself out of the front doors.

“God damnit, Dollanganger!” Marcus shouted as he stomped over to them. Powder clung to her chest as Gracey spoke with a very large, very pissed off looking guy in a suit. Vi looked between the two and backed up as Marcus moved closer and closer. Gracey moved toward them, desperation in her eyes, and Vi felt the weight of the world falling on her.

They couldn't run, the whole campus was fenced in. They wouldn't be able to run into the building, the door would be locked and they’d need someone to buzz them in. She couldn't drive, so stealing the still-running car wasn’t an option.

Powder clung to her chest and Vi saw one way out.

“Powder, get behind me.” She whispered. Powder did as she was told, moving between Vi and the side of the building. Vi put up her fists, and saw Marcus roll his eyes.

“Come on kid, can't you just be happy for her? Maybe if you were a little more grateful, your ass would be out of here by now.” Marcus said, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

“You're not doing yourself any favors, Violet. Let Powder go, now.” Gracey prodded. Vi swallowed her fear and braced for a fight. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd break the old bitch’s nose so bad she'd never be able to stick it up again.

“Fuck you, crone.” Vi spat.

“Marcus, handle her.” Gracey impatiently barked.

“On it.” He said, moving to step closer to her. He reached for Powder and Vi punched him in the elbow. “Son of a-” he grunted, reaching to snag her hand mid-air. He got a grip, but before he could do anything with it, Vi kicked him in the dick and put him on his knees.

The beefy henchmen-looking motherfucker in the suit walked past Gracey, shoving Vi aside like she weighed nothing, grabbing Powder under the arm as she screamed and swatted at him. “Let me go!”

Vi grabbed her hand and the two pulled each other closer as best they could. Marcus managed to get back on his feet, grabbing Vi around the waist and heaving until she finally couldn't keep her grip.

Powder slipped through her fingers, guided toward the car that would take her away.

“Get off me you asshole!” Vi screamed, arm outstretched toward Powder as if she could still grab her and keep hold. They stumbled backwards, falling on their asses, but Marcus kept his grip.

Vi grabbed the knife from her pocket, flicked it open with the thumbstud, and buried it in Marcus’s thigh. Blood splattered out from around the blade, and Vi caught some of it in her eyes. He screamed, letting her go, and Vi tried her best to haul herself to her feet.

Blood was thinner than she had expected it to be, but her vision was blurred by it nonetheless. She tripped over her own feet, falling to the ground, hands clutching at the dirt under her as she watched Powder be dragged away through a red haze.

Blood dripped down her cheeks, stinging her eyes. She could hear Powder's screams ringing in her ears.

“They took her away.” Caitlyn whispers out, looking between the two others in the room.

“Tore her right out of my arms there in the front yard.” Vi spat. “she was screaming and crying, begging me to stop them… and I just fucking couldn't.”

“You were a child.”

“I was all she had.” Vi corrected. “And I failed. They sent her off to meet the new family. I found out later they lived on basically the opposite side of the fucking country, some big mansion on the outskirts of Upstate New York.”

“And what happened to you?”

“Juvie. Not exactly easy to just ignore a kid stabbing the security guard. After that, I ended up in the foster system… you know most of my stories from there.”

Caitlyn nodded. She's heard quite a few of them when they'd been together. None of them had happy endings, and few had happy beginnings.

“We would be lucky if we were able to get in contact maybe once a year.” Vi says with a shrug. “Silco and Vander helped us where they could. They were family to us, even if not by blood. They tried to get custody of both of us, but just… never could get the courts to listen. Silco had a record, and Vander couldn't get them to look past the whole “faggot with a wrap sheet” thing, especially back then. But they were able to get the number of the family that adopted Powder from some court shit, and conveniently it ended up being passed on to me.”

“I’m glad you had someone. But if you had the number, why so little contact?” Vi shook her head and sighed.

“The family claimed she would have “behavioral issues” whenever we would talk. So they stopped letting me talk to her. It always boiled down to me being a bad influence for them.”

“Behavioral issues?” Caitlyn is dumbfounded by such a silly excuse.

“Remember what I said about the meds? Powder stopped being the sweetheart she is pretty quick after they tore us apart. She'd draw on the walls, break things, let the expensive dogs escape. Anything she could to raise hell, she did. Shrink told the family it was trauma and separation, but they just shopped around til some quack called it psychosis. They put her on pills that helped her keep calm and quiet. Guess whenever we would talk she'd start raising hell again even with the pills.” Vi runs her thumb along Powder’s knuckles, grinning with pride. “I say everything would've been a lot calmer if they didn't tear us apart. But that was their lesson to learn, not mine. Didn't matter though. We found our ways.”

“Must've been quite the challenge sneaking that around.”

“Oh you have no idea.” Vi said with a chuckle. “But I'm a master of subtlety.”

“Since when?” Caitlyn can't help but ask with a laugh.

“Excuse me! I can be very subtle when I need to be.”

“Oh please, you got caught 6 separate times trying to sneak onto campus to see me.”

“It took me a while to learn Security’s patrol routes, sue me!” Vi's defense however falls flat. “Okay, maybe it was more Powder that was the stealthy one. She'd find me on this or that website, message me, give me the number for her new cell phone. We'd talk for a few days until she got caught, then some time later she'd find me somewhere else. Her family would ban her from whatever site we were talking on, and six months later she'd have one of her friends send me a message with a new way to get in contact. I'd do everything I could to keep record of our messages. Whenever I missed her, I'd read them back over.” Vi smiles faintly, but it wavers at the end as tears gather in the corner of her eyes. “I'd have them memorized in a few weeks. Pretty sure, gun to my head, I could still recite most of em.”

Caitlyn is about to reply when her pager goes off, ringing out a quick tone as a nurse notifies her of another patients test results and a number to respond.

“Damn, Violet I'm-”

“Go ahead. Thanks for listening to me… it helped, a lot.” Caitlyn gives her best reassuring smile and stands up.

“I'm glad. I'll try and stop by tomorrow, when time allows.” She pulls her work phone free and dials the nurse who paged her, returning to her actual job.

“Hey, Cait.” Vi says before she leaves. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that. I never wanted things to play out how they did.”

Caitlyn can't even begin to process everything that means. But she nods, and walks out to talk with the nurse.

A while later, Vi finishes the last braid alone in the room. Well, not alone, but that's kind of the crux of the whole issue, isn't it?

Her hands left idle were never a good thing. So she decides to try and turn in for the night, again. The clock on the bedside table reads 2 in the morning.

“You’d be beating my ass if you knew I was staying up this late again. But I mean hey, at least I'm not smoking, right?” Vi tries to joke to Powder, to no response. She didn't expect one, but it still stings deep in her chest. She leans down, pressing a kiss to her temple, then to her lips. “Goodnight, Clouds. I love you.”

She collapses onto the tired old hospital cot. She's gotten used to them over the last few years, but this one feels especially worn down. The cancer ward, now that place had the good cots.

Vi wonders to herself absently if she could convince a nurse to snag her one from there, but thinks better of it. It feels silly, wanting to be comfortable at a time like this.

She makes it maybe 10 minutes into trying to sleep before she gives up. She reaches for her phone, swiping it open. Her notifications are flooded with a bunch of shit she can't bother to sort through. She sees confirmations from Ekko, Jayce, Mel, and Isha. That's all she cares about.

She swipes away and opens up her photos, going to the oldest folder on the phone. She's greeted by what feels like miles of pixelated screenshots. All several decades old. She flicks her thumb and watches the pictures scroll by. It comes to a stop in the middle somewhere random, and opens the photo as she begins to read the texts.

Vi was in middle school, more accurately she was running late for middle school.

She scampered down the stairs, hair still sopping wet and hanging limp in her face as she rushed to get ready.

“No running in my kitchen.” Grayson said over the rim of her coffee mug, and Vi stopped right away. Grayson did not need to yell or threaten to make herself heard.

“S-sorry Ma’am. Running late.”

“I can see that.” Grayson said looking at the clock. “If you run you should be able to make it. don't forget food.”

“Thank you ma'am.” Vi stuttered out as she quickly reached into the fridge, grabbing for a sandwich.

“If you keep sleeping through your alarms, I may have to take back Mylo’s old iPod. Can't have you staying up so late.”

“Understood ma’am. I uh… I was wondering if maybe I could have a uh, friend over after school tonight?”

Grayson raised a brow at Vi. She couldn't blame her. Friends weren't exactly a common occurrence for Vi. She'd been placed with Grayson and Milo over a year ago, and hadn't even really bothered to get to know anyone else for the first half of that. She couldn't count the number of homes she'd had to transfer out of before reaching the six months mark, so she made it a habit not to bother setting roots until after then.

Grayson sighed and looked at the calendar. “Hmmm, it's not a boy, is it?”

Vi grimaced. “Eww, no freaking way.”

“Language.”

“Sorry ma'am… but I mean, Milo has his tutoring group tonight, so I figured we wouldn't be bothering anyone. She’ll go home before dinner.”

Grayson thought on it for a moment and sighed. “I think that should work fine. But I'm not driving anyone home.”

“She lives close!” Vi assured, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you ma’am!”

“Of course. And Violet?” She looked at the foster parent nervously, fear spiking in her that she'd already been caught.

“Yes ma'am?”

“Good for you. Now get going or else.”

Vi ran out the front door, managing to make it to the bus stop seconds before the doors shut on her. She slid through the aisle and found her spot tucked right in the very back.

“Dude, you can't keep cutting it this close.” Milo taunted, clapping her on the back as she took the seat opposite him. “Mom is gonna find out that you're staying up all night, playing on that damn phone.”

“It's not a phone, it's an iPod. Like, an old as hell one at that.”

“Whatever, man, it's got apps and shit, and whatever it is you do on that thing all night, it's gonna land your ass in hot water. Plus it keeps me up.”

“Fine, man, I'll turn the brightness down or something. Get off my shit. Don't go telling Grayson on me either.” Vi said, punching him in the shoulder.

“Dude, c'mon, you've been here like, a year now. It's cool to relax a little.”

“What else would I call her?” Vi asked. Milo raised his hands halfheartedly in surrender, but let the subject drop.

The next stop came and went, and a second later a mess of blue hair took the half-seat open besides violet, forcing the two of them into close proximity.

“Hi, Violet!” The girl said through a dopey grin, a little pride flag pin hanging off the strap of her backpack.

“H-hey, Jemma.” Vi tried to say without sounding too nervous. Clearly it hadn't been as successful as she thought, and Jemma looked between her and Milo questioningly.

“Did I um, y'know, interrupt you and your brother or-””He’s not my brother.” Vi interjected quickly, realizing she may have snapped too quickly as Jemma looked even more confused and Milo just looked bummed.

“S-sorry. Y'know, he's like, my cool room mate and stuff.” Vi offered as a pathetic excuse. Jemma just smiled back at her, the seat too small for the both of them, and Vi so unbearably nervous at that proximity. She could smell Jemma’s perfume, it smelled like apples and cinnamon.

“Oh, yeah, like, cool!” Jemma offered as a response, before deftly and subtly steering the conversation back where she wanted it. “So, did you talk to your uh, not-mom about me coming over?”

“Yeah, I did! She said you can come, just gotta go home by dinner.”

Jemma beamed at her, red creeping onto her cheeks, contrasting against the blue of her eyes, and Vi felt something tight and fluttery in her chest as she smiled back.

“Great!” She finally says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

They exited the bus, Jemma running off to her class as Milo and Vi went to theirs. “Dude, she's totally crushing on you.”

“Shut up!” Vi said, looking around the halls, pausing for a long moment before looking at her scuffed up hand-me-down boots. “You think so?”

“Oh dude, totally. Without a doubt. I may not know a lot of lesbians but like, if that's not gay then you're the pope.” Vi felt herself blush as Mylo shook her shoulder. “Good luck with your lil date tonight, Casanova. Casandranova? Is Casanova a gendered term? Do I need to be conjugating it like a verb in Spanish? Is casanova even spanish?” Milo wondered absentmindedly as they walk into class.

Vi met Jemma after school at the flag pole, tripping over her own feet immediately before reaching her and falling flat on her face. She pushed herself up and tried to play it as best she could, and Jemma just smiled at her.

“I was thinking we could walk?” She offered, along with a hand to help Vi up. “If you think you can make it that far.”

“Oh I totally can.” Vi said, just barely managing not to immediately trip again.

They got a block or two from school when Jemma pulled a lighter from her pocket. A few seconds later, she produces a pack of cigarettes.

“Where did you get those?” Vi asked as Jemma unwrapped the plastic from the pack.

“My big sister. She started smoking last year and I finally managed to convince her to get me some! I think she feels bad that she's going away for college soon. They taste awful but you get used to them.” Jemma put the cigarette in her mouth and lit it with a flick, offering the box to Vi.

“I didn't know you had a sister.” Vi observed, taking a cigarette from the box. Jemma held her hands out to light it between Vi's lips.

“Yeah, I talk about her like, all the time.” Jemma said absentmindedly as Vi choked on the smoke in her lungs.

“S-sorry. I uh, I thought you meant you had another sister.” Vi tried her best to cover her ass, half her words coming out between hacking coughs. But after a moment the coughing passed, and they continued walking.

“Right… so uh, do you have any siblings?” Jemma asked as they walked. Vi swallowed hard, chewing her cheek as she pulled the cigarette from her lips. She looked at it for a moment before putting it back and taking as long a drag as she could.

“kind of. I have a sister, but we haven't talked in a long time.”

Vi never handled pity well, and the look Jemma gave her spiked that anger like she hadn't felt in a long time. But Vi tried her best to hold it back, keep a level head. She looked at Jemma’s soft blue eyes, took another drag from her cigarette, and felt her nerves settle.

Her mind drifts to Powder, try as she might to avoid it. But she thinks better of it. She's with Jemma right now, she should focus on her. She takes another drag, feels the smoke in her lungs, the quiet burn of it, and breathes it out as she refocuses.

“-so that's when I told her it looked fugly, which she seemed to think meant fuckably ugly, don't know where she got that idea, and like, completely ignored my advice not to get it. But now that it's been sitting unused in her closet for like, a month, she wants to whine and complain and I'm like, girl I told you! You know?”

“Uh, yeah no that sounds crazy. What a hypocrite.” Vi responds.

“Totally.” Jemma finished her cigarette and tossed the butt in the nearest storm drain. Vi nursed hers for a lot longer, saving it for when her mind drifted back to Powder. “So, got any ideas for what electives you wanna take next year? I was thinking about becoming a library assistant.”

“I uh, hadn't really thought about it. I took auto shop this year, I've been really enjoying that.”

“Wow, very butch of you.” She said with a playful smirk.

“Is that a bad thing?” Vi asked.

“No, not at all. Butches are hot.” Jemma said, bumping their shoulders together. “Plus, they're like… the protectors of the community. Makes sense for you. Milo told me about that bully you beat up for taking his lunch.”

Vi took another drag. “You talked to Milo?” Jemma blushed beat red and looked away.

“Oh, yeah, you know, just uh, chitchatting. Not about you or anything. Cus you know, that'd be weird.” she laughed awkwardly, and Vi felt her face get warm. “So, like, what do you do in auto shop?” she asked, clearly trying her best to keep the conversation flowing.

Vi talked for a bit about this or that project and assignment, and Jemma did everything she was supposed to. She listened, asked her questions, smiled and giggled at the few times Vi would try and crack a joke, even when Vi knew they were probably shit.

Jemma was sweet. Looking back Vi could see how obvious she was about her crush. Maybe it was out of necessity, Vi was the only other out gay girl in the school at the time, even if Grayson wasn't aware of it yet. Vi had only come out at school because she'd been caught with a playboy she found out in the field behind the highschool. Milo had to be sworn to secrecy for that, and it was only after that that Vi really started to even bother getting to know him.

They got to Vi's foster house a few minutes after Vi had finished her smoke. They got inside to find the house empty, and Vi guided Jemma up to her and Milo’s shared room. Two twin sized beds occupied opposite sides of the room. Vi's side was neatly made, with her clothes folded up in neet piles in her duffel bag, and the few other personal items she had stashed neatly in a backpack right beside it.

Vi set her school bag onto the ground besides the other bags, and sat on the edge of the bed. Jemma did the same, politely placing her bag as the fourth in this line, and sitting beside Vi.

“So you wanna see the memes I sent you during class?” Jemma asked, pulling out her phone. It was years newer than Vi's third hand iPod. The two stretched out on their stomachs across the bed, vi up against the wall while Jemma laid next to her near the edge.

They scrolled through the different chat apps and social media they talked on. “God, why do you have so many of these accounts?” Jemma teased her as she opened the most recent chat.

“You never know what sites are good until you try em.” Vi justified.

“Dude, you have a Google plus account, nothing good comes from Google plus. Besides, you might wanna find a more anonymous username for your accounts then just your full legal name.” Jemma teased again, finally pulling up the memes. It was the generic shit from that day. Some guy getting hit in the nuts with a vacuum cleaner, a screaming goat that sounded like a dude, all that type of shit.

One video had them both cackling so damn hard that Jemma nearly fell off the bed, but Vi managed to catch her arm and keep her from falling. It was only like, a foot high drop, but the hit to the ego of a middle schooler would’ve been socially fatal.

“Th-thank you.” Jemma said, yet again bright red, the two were laying sideways, facing each other now.

“Oh um, of course.” Vi managed not to stutter out. She realized her hand was still on Jemma’s forearm and let go. Jemma seemed so disappointed.

“You have strong hands.” Jemma said absentmindedly. She reached out, dragging a finger along the top of Vi's arm.

“Thanks… you know, auto shop and stuff.” Vi said. Jemma laid her hand over Vi's, her fingers so much shorter and thinner than Vi's, so many fewer scars dotting them.

“Wow, your hands are so big…” Jemma absentmindedly commented, and Vi felt the back of her throat go dry.

“Gotta be, right? Like you said… protector.” Vi mumbled, feeling an icy reminder shoot down her spine, a voice whispering in her ear “not like you have ever protected anything that really mattered.”

She found herself craving another cigarette.

“Vi… can I kiss you?” Jemma asked, face so red it comically contrasted the blue of her hair. She didn't even look Vi in the eyes until vi responded “yeah. I-I’d like that.”

Vi leaned forward, just a few inches, and Jemma did the same. That all but closed the gap between them and Vi wondered how they'd ended up so close without her realizing.

Their lips were centimeters apart when Vi heard the front door close and Grayson shout down the hall “Violet, you have a letter! It's from someone named Powder.”

Vi all but jumped over Jemma to run out the door, unkissed and uncaring as she hurriedly mumbled “I'll be right back”. She rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the envelope from Grayson's hands.

“Calm down, child. It's okay, whats all the rush?” Grayson had seen Vi get excited for mail from Vander and Silco, but that was nothing compared to this.

Vi grabbed a butter knife and sliced the envelope open, careful to be sure not to damage it's contents.

It was a postcard, some bougie resort town bullshit, but Vi flipped it over to find nothing written but the name of some chat app and a username. Vi downloaded the app there on the spot, standing in the middle of the kitchen, lied her way through age verification, and started typing.

VioletDollanganger: Powpow? This you?

The reply came in second.
PowderGanger:Vi! Thank God it actually made it to you.
V: How the hell did you manage this one? I thought your parents checked all your outgoing mail after last Christmas?
P: dude, don't remind me of that.
V: I mean you were the one who thought “sending a letter to Santa” at 12 wouldn't be suspicious.
P:shut up, shut up, shut up!
V: Never. But seriously, how'd you manage this one?
P: bribery. My parents took me to this like, resort town and every chance I got I slipped away and paid the sketchy weirdos selling postcards an extra 20 if the sent it to Vander with a little note to send it to you. I sent like, 9 of them figuring at least one of the guys has to be decent enough to follow through.
P: do you have time to call? I have the house to myself for a little while longer. I miss your voice.
V: of course, Powpow.

The ringtone comes out of Vi's speaker faster than it should've taken for Powder to receive and read the text.

Vi hurriedly stepped out onto the back porch, praying the Wi-Fi was good enough for the call to hold. She breathed a nervous sigh and answeres, the postcard still stuck in her grasp.

“Powpow?”

“Oh thank God.” Powder said in response. “It's really you.”

“Of course. Accept no imitations.” Vi thought she was such hot shit for that line.

“Never. I was just… I don't know I was worried.”

“It's okay. I'm here. God it's nice to hear your voice. You sound like you're growing up!”

“You sound like a squeaky teenager.” Powder teased with a snicker.

“Hey, now that's a low blow.” Vi's voice decided that was the perfect moment to crack, and Powder giggled on the other end of the line. God, Vi couldn't remember the last time she heard Powder laugh. It makes her heart hurt. “How are you doing in school? Are you okay at home? Are you safe?”

“School is good. Math sucks, but I like English. I've been reading this book series from the 80s my teacher said she read when she was my age. It's something about these kids stuck in an attic, I'm just getting started tho. I've been doing a lot of art too. It's like, my favorite class, the teacher is completely sick of me bugging him during lunch so I can have more time to spend painting. We've been doing landscapes and every time I start doing a Bob Ross voice in my head while I do it.”

“But you're safe?” Vi asked, tension winding itself in her stomach as Powder hesitates.

“Yeah, yeah I'm safe. Safe is like, their primary concern here. Even if it means no fun. I do like, nothing but get driven to school, attend some classes, get driven home and then sit around waiting for school. Every time I say I wanna go do something it's always “no no, that's too dangerous, that's unladylike, that could get you hurt.” It's so annoying, but like, at least they're being misogynistic about it which is vaguely affirming if kinda shitty. I still get into trouble but it's okay, they don't hit me. Just yell. It's been better since they put me on these meds, I guess. That's what everyone says at least. I don't mind… they make the days go by a lot quicker, at least, right?”

Vi swallowed hard. “Okay, well… I'm glad you're safe. Have you heard from Silco or Vander?”

“No, not in like, a year. I think my parents are swiping their mail from me.”

“Bastards.”

“They're overprotective. I think they're afraid…” afraid she'll turn out like Vi. “You know what, I'm not letting them take up any more of this. I'm just glad you got my card. God, Vi, I miss you so much. How are things for you? Are you still in Pittsburg with Clagor? He seemed really sweet.”

“N-no, I uh, I got kicked out of there a couple years back. Got into a fight with a kid in the neighborhood. He uh, he took the keepsake box.”

“The one from home? With the clouds?”

“Yeah. Don't worry, I got it back.”

“That's good. The design was so pretty. I think about it all the time.”

“Me too.” Vi admitted.

“Do you have anything else from the old house?”

“Just Dad's old lighter. I still try and keep it maintained, you know…”

Powder gave a long "hmmm" before she responded. “You should send me a picture of it, the box and stuff. When we're off the call I mean.”

“Totally!”

“So, how’s your new place then?”

“Good. The lady who runs it is nice. This boy Milo is pretty cool, but he keeps acting weird when I don't call the lady mom. But it's a nice neighborhood. The school actually has funding, they've even got an auto shop! I've been taking it all year, I'm getting really good at it.”

“God that's so butch of you.” Powder teased.

“How the hell do you know that word?”

“I read, plus I have the internet, dweeb. Duh. I saw that profile picture you chose, you look like if Leslie Feinburg designed a sonic O.C. A real edgy one too.”

“Who the hell is Leslie Feinburg?”

“Google it later, that’s not important right now. Like I said, I've been reading like… a lot. But that really is great Vi. I'm glad you found such a nice place. Where is it?”

“Rhode Island.”

“Oh wow! That’s like, closer than you've ever been before!” Powder said excitedly, and Vi could just imagine the big goofy grin splitting her sister’s face.

They don't remark on the obvious, on the fact that no matter how close Vi is, she can't go to Powder, can't see her, can't hug her, can't be her big sister like she should be. No, that right was stripped away by some rich assholes “charitable donation” to the orphanage and an expedited adoption process.

“I know. Maybe one or two more placements, I'll end up right next door.” Vi fantasized idly.

“I mean, what if you ended up just staying there… it's just a few more years before you're, you know, out…” Powder said quietly. “It seems like you're doing well there. Maybe this is just the waiting game now. You know?” Powder offered, and Vi could hear her chewing her nails, as she always did when she was nervous. She was pitching some scheme to Violet that she just didn’t quite get.

“Yeah, maybe. Wait until I get all grown up, soup up some jalopy, ride in with the cavalry to bust you out of that posh shithole.” Vi offered.

“Always my knight in shining armour.” Powder whispered, and Vi couldn't help but think she sounded like her mind was miles away. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Send me a picture of you, along with the one of the box? Like, a good picture. Not that grainy one you have for your profile. I don't… I don't want to forget what you look like. I've been getting a lot more forgetful lately. My old man says it's just a side effect of my meds.”

“Of course. You should send me one too! I haven't seen you in years.”

“Of course, here let me…” Vi heard her tapping as Powder’s breathing got more distant. Vi did the same, pulling back and sending the best photo she had from her collection, mostly consisting of selfies taken in a dirty mirror. The one she sends is one Grayson sent her, a picture of her and Milo out on a hike in the mountains, Vi in an old flannel and paint splattered work pants she got from a thrift shop. She saw Powder’s picture, a gap-toothed grin painting her face along with her hair chopped to bits like she'd hacked at it with safety scissors, contrasting with the ungodly expensive looking dress and jean jacket she was wearing. Vi sent along a blurry photo of the keepsake box as well. “I promise I'll send a better one later.”

“You better, those clouds look like blue dogshit in this pic.”

“Powder!” Vi feigned offense to the language, and she heard Powder laugh as the back door opened behind her.

“What?! You swear like a sailor!”

“Yeah, but you're a kid, Clouds! It's different.”

“Oh so I’m Clouds now, huh? What happened to Powpow?”

“I'm allowed to give you more than one nickname, kid.”

“Oh c'mon, cut the “kid” stuff, I'm like 3 years younger than-” “Vi? What's up?” Jemma asked from behind her. Vi held up a finger as she heard something weird from the other side of the line.

There was clicking, and Powder swearing under her breath, and rustling like the microphone rubbing against fabric. Then she heard yelling, a woman's voice demanding to know who she's talking to.

“Vi, what the hell is-” Vi waved her off, pointing to the iPod in her grasp. She heard Powder begging someone not to take the phone right as she felt a wad of something hit her in the back of the head.

“I'm going home. I can't believe I thought this was a good idea.” Jemma muttered as she walked back into the house. Vi couldn't care less as she heard the line go dead, just as she heard Powder yelling her name into the line.

The last words Vi heard were Powder yelling “please don’t forget me!”

Vi listened on the dead line for several minutes after that, but there was nothing. The iPod had already gone to sleep by then. She fought the urge to fling it into the fence, but it's not hers, none of this is. Not this house, not this family, not this life.

She stuffed the iPod in her pocket, and looks behind her to see the pile of shit she'd been hit with before Jemma stormed out, mostly new pack of cigarettes.

She could probably catch up to Jemma. Run after her, apologize, explain. But something about that just felt equal parts humiliating and pitiful. She picked up the smokes, pocketed them, and walked up to Milo’s room.

The keepsake box was tucked in the very bottom of her personal bag. The blue and white clouds painted on the lid and body were starting to fade with age and wear. Vi took a picture of the box and went to send it, but was greeted with bold black text declaring “THIS USER NO LONGER EXISTS”.

Tears tore at her eyes, but she made quick work screencapping the messages and saving them so they don't get lost. She types out notes from what Powder told her over the phone, reading, art, painting, meds. She made a note to look up that Feinburg person.

She looked at the trinket box, lid cracked in half and super glued back together, and picked it up as she walked back down stairs.

“Your friend seemed upset.” Grayson observed idly, looking at Vi with that same fucking look she always gave when she was trying to get her to talk about her feelings.

“She's not my friend.” Vi mumbled, walking out back onto the porch, sitting back on her spot on the edge of the concrete. She set the box in the grass in front of her, opening it to show a near bursting stack of paper. At the top sat a rusted old Zippo lighter, and underneath that lay letters disguised as letters to santa, postcards, a few notepad pages that had lists of old usernames and her best summary of the phone calls they’d had.

She held the postcard from today in her hand, and just stared at it. She shifted in her seat and felt the smokes rustle in her pocket.

She pulled one out of the box and lit it with her father’s lighter as she set the postcard down, rifling through the box and reading one of the old letters. She drained the smoke by the time the letter was done. It helped, so she started a new one, reaching in and grabbing another page.

This one came up, a faded crayon doodle, Vi as a poorly scribbled knight with a stick figure Powder behind her.

She made it through half the pack by the time she put the doodle away. She set it back in the box gently, and then reached for the postcard to add it to her dragon's horde. She paused for a moment, and leaned forward, sniffing at the paper. She was right, Powder had added some perfume or something to the card like she had the last time she sent her mail.

It was a pretty scent. Apples and cinnamon. Vi finished one more smoke before going back inside.

3 months later, Grayson would be hit by a drunk driver while coming back from grocery shopping, and Vi and Milo both ended up back in the system.

It took Vi 5 minutes to pack everything she owned. Milo was nice enough to let her keep the iPod.

Vi ended up in Idaho, and then a couple years later in Colorado, maybe an hour drive from Denver with a woman named Xemina Talis and her son. They owned a junkyard, and Vi found herself with lots of free time, and lots of busted up cars to fiddle with to fill it.

Vi is torn from her trip down memory lane by a cough tearing its way up her throat. She pulls a blue hankerchief from her back pocket and retches into it as she feels her lungs spasm trying to clear a path. When she pulls the bandana away, she doesn't bother to look at it.

She feels sleep finally tugging at her eyes, looking at the clock to see 4:32 AM in bright red LED, and lays down onto her side on the cot, reaching her hand out to clasp Powder’s. “How could you ever believe I'd forget you?” She mumbles as sleep finally overtakes her.

Powder doesn't respond, the bloody hankerchief is left hanging off the side of Vi's cot.