Chapter Text
Your name is Vriska Serket and everything you knew is fading.
The meteor rocks again, sending you and the other trolls crashing towards the ground again. This time, only Kanaya remains standing, stupid rainbow drinker. Whatever those humans have been doing to cause this Scratch it’s wreaking havoc, even out here, in the furthest ring. Already you can feel bits and pieces of your memory slipping away. Who was your lusus again? For a minute, you forget your name, then you wonder why that strange teal-blooded troll is sniffing at the air frantically. Every few seconds, Karkat will flicker in and out of view, and Gamzee disappeared straight into thin air nearly half an hour ago.
It’s only when you forget what your typing quirk was that you panic. “I don’t want to go” you suddenly wail, and the other trolls on the meteor- you knew them, you knew their names, you’re sure of it- all give you shocked looks. You’ve never acted like this before- or at least, you think you haven’t. The teal blood flickers out of view, and the nubby-horned guy disappears soon after. And all you’re thinking is no, you can’t forget all this, you can’t lose yourself, you can’t, you CAN’T
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You wake up, gasping for air. That stupid dream again. The alarm on your bedside beeps loudly, the numbers on its face flashing. Eight AM. Time to head to work.
Your name is Vriska Serket and you’re twenty-one, living on your own, and now those stupid dreams are coming back again. When you were a kid, you used to have them all the time, dreams of living on some strange planet and having weird skin and weird blood and living with a spider for a mother. Then your mother (you always thought of her as more of a spider than a mom, with the way she always has to interfere with everything and knows everything) sent you to a bunch of shrinks and got you all dosed up on medications. The dreams had calmed down since then, and you’d forgotten all about it. After all, you were just a kid. Everyone has imaginary friends when they’re kids.
But now, the dreams are back. With a sigh, you reach for your medication by the side of the table. Three pills a day, one for the morning, noon, and evening. You pop the first of the three in your mouth, chug it down with some water, and proceed getting ready for the day.
As you brush your teeth, you can’t help but think about that dream again. Fourth time this week that you’ve dreamed of your little grey-skinned imaginary friends again, and it’s bothering you. Maybe you need to increase the dosage of your medication or something? You idly remember how much you insisted that those visions were real when you were a kid, how you went around demanding to be taken to- uh, what was that one brown guy’s name again? Oh yeah, Tavros. You would always demand to be taken you Tavros. You laugh, bitterly, to yourself. Better to just forget all about it, that’s what your shrink always said.
John is already at the bagel shop, setting things up in preparation for opening, when you arrive. He gives you a wide grin and you can’t help but grin back. You and John met only a few years ago when you first started working at the shop at age 18, but even then it felt like you’d known him forever. He was one of your few friends, and one of your even fewer crushes. He was always just so cheerful and happy, he didn’t cringe at seeing your blind eye, and he didn’t judge you for your gambling “problem” (if you won every time you sat at the tables, why call it a problem) and he introduced you to Nic Cage movies, which you still adamantly denied having anything to do with, but secretly loved watching. “Hey there Vriska” John says warmly, turning the sign on the shop entrance from “Sorry, we’re CLOSED” to “Yes, we’re OPEN”. “Ready for another day of work.”
“Yes, and I’m sure it’ll be booooooooring as usual” You complain with a loud sign and John laughs. He’s grown used to your antics over the past few years. “Well, I’m gonna head to the kitchen and start baking for the day. You can man the register?” You nod and John’s off, giving you a final perky little wave that makes your heart flutter before disappearing into the adjoining room to the shop where he can get started baking the day’s wares. You idly pull out your smart phone and begin scrolling the internet to pass the time.
When the bell tinkles a few hours later, marking the entrance of customers, you don’t even look up. Those who frequent this bagel shop all know you well by now, they’ll tell you what they want and you’ll get it for them, no need for all this perky “Hi! Welcome to the Bagel Shop!” bullshit.
Instead of hearing footsteps, you hear a steady roll of wheels, before a quavery nasal voice speaks up, hesitantly, as if the speaker is afraid to disturb you. “Uhm, excuse me, uh, are you too busy, or I, uh..am I bothering you or…I’d, uh, I’d like to get a bagel and-“
You cut the voice off with a very blatant sigh, still not looking up from your phone. “Just say what you want and I’ll get it for you” you say very pointedly, finally looking up to see whatthis kid’s problem is. What you see makes your heart stop beating for a split second. Your mouth feels dry, you can hardly breathe.
The short kid you see in the wheelchair is definitely someone you’ve never seen before in your life. He looks to be of latino ancestry, with tan skin and dark hair styled in a Mohawk. There are no kids in wheelchairs in town that you know of, you’re sure of that. And yet, those round brown eyes, that hesitant face. You know that face. You’ve seen it before.
It’s Tavros.