Weird, and a tad sadistic. But it popped into my mind one night.
It had been a long night, and Magenta was up for water, but heard a thud and a cry from Riff's room, she ran to his room, he's lying on the floor, blood around head, freash whip marks all over him. She lifted him into his bed, then decided to lay down with him. His room was always cold, but tonight was the coldest she'd ever seen it. And it only got cold at night, somtimes. Laying with him, she cradled his head, and in his sleep, he rolleed over, and moved his head from under her neck to on top of her breasts. He was freezing, cold to the touch. His long nose was freezing poked bwtween her breasts. As he borrowed further and further down her chest, his head lay burried in her belly, she lifted her shirt and put it over his head. She tried her best to warm him. He dug his finger nails into her back, she could tell him was having a nightmare.
"Stop it, you silly sod." she gave a half hearted laugh.
Riff started to drag his hands panikly across her back. He was grasping for somthing.
"Shh, shh, Riff Raff. I'm right here, Magenta is here."
He whimpered. She laced her finger across his wounds. "There there, baby." This place they were living in was Hell. Riff was the one thing in the world that meant anything to her. And she always tried to be there to help him. And right now, laying there was all she could do. She knew not to wake him from the nightmare, he had to fight it himself. He was in the gray area, he slipped in fron conciousness to deaming, and she knew it. His hands would slow down or speed up.
Her arm was wrapped around his body, he was so frail, and seemed to get smaller by the day. He was lanky. He never ate much. Living on a steady diet of the little food Frank fed us, and stealing when he was in the kitchen. His ribs were thick, and she could feel each and every one of them if she ran her finger down his side. She could hear his heavy breath. It got slower and longer. She didn't know if this was good or bad. She took the blanket laying at the foot of his made bed, and draped it over him. And by blanket, it was a tattered sheet from Frank's linen set that he didn't want. That's all Riff Raff every got. Rags. He was under appreciated.
She soon fell asleep as well. His head under her shirt awkwardly shifting around, her hands caressing his back. Only time would tell if he would be alright. But the pair rested quietly.
The next morning, it had warmed up, and Riff Raff was snorning off and on. Head still under shirt, hand still on back. She heard feet clomping up the stair well. She jerked up, taking Riff's head with her. Her ears were right-feet. Magenta's face shown a look that screamed 'Mortified'. She grasped Riff Raff like a protective mother. If it were Frank, they would both be dead. Literally. Whipped till they died. She gulped as black hair came into veiw. But instead of curly black hair, it was slick. It was eddie.
"What!" she yelled. "What are you doing? Is he...breast feeding off you?"
"No! He's unconcious."
"Thank God..."
"What?" she glared at him.
"No, thank God he's not br-Nevermind. I was sent up here to get ya, Magenta. Columbia said she needed ya."
"Tell her I can't come."
"It's important."
"Send her up here then."
"Okay." He ran back down the steps, and Magenta took Riff Raff out from under her shirt. "Dear brother, I love you so dearly. Please, wake up." she felt him stir.
"Riff Raff?"
"Marfhg..." he mumbled.
"Riff Raff, you're okay?"
"No." His voice sounded like that of a small child, whining in a high pitched tone. His eyes were darting everywhere. Magenta came to te conclusion he was confused. He tried to push away from her, like a cat being held against will.
"No, Riff. You're hurt."
"...Okay." she held him tightly. He her right held back.
"Don't worry Riff, We'll both be here when you get back." she rubbed his head.