Delusions and Devotion
Author's Note: I wrote this while listening, over and over again, to the songs, "If It Makes You Happy" by Sheryl Crow, and "All That I'm Living For" by Evanescence. They made me think of these two characters, specifically, when I was just spacing out.
So, I hope you all enjoy it.
Magenta hated being lied to, above all things. For someone to tell her something was alright when clearly it wasn't…she knew no other annoyance worse than that. The domestic stood by a window in the main hall of Frank's castle, staring out at the rain. It always seemed to rain, she rarely saw the moon out on this god forsaken planet, and that was one thing she hated. It seemed she only was able to think of things she hated and things that annoyed her that day. Things that bothered her, places she missed and people she longed to see again. It was a depressing day, if for no other reason than what started it out so badly.
Denton; the home of happiness.
Hypocritical fools. They knew nothing of true happiness. No one on this planet knew of true happiness.
Magenta had even begun to question her own happiness. Did she even comprehend the term any longer? Did the woman even know what happiness was? She could swear she hadn't felt happy in years now…was it fifteen years of absolute torture on Earth? Her brother would argue. 'Absolute torture!' he would mock, he would snicker. 'Magenta, stop being so dramatic.' She could hear his voice in her head now.
His voice in her head…she was always thinking of what he would do or what he would say in addition to what she was pondering. If he could hear her thoughts, he would have a hay day with them. Out of the two of them, she couldn't decide which one was happier.
It would make perfect sense to say neither of them were pleased with their lot in life currently.
But Riff hid it so well. He hid behind a façade of doing his job, just as Magenta did, but at times, times like these, she wondered how long she could keep up her part of the act. She grew tired of calling Frank-N-Furter 'Master', among cleaning the house that he would sometimes, she felt, make an absolute mess just for her to have more to clean. The only thing it was good for was keeping her busy, keeping her mind off things.
No, that wasn't true, either. She was lying to herself now, wonderful. It didn't always keep her busy. Her mind was still free to wander, to brood on things that she should have let go.
She very simply, most certainly, most desperately wanted to go home.
Home was Transexual, in the galaxy of Transylvania, far, far from here. Home, of course, held as many good memories as this planet did, but it was home nonetheless, and the activities and day to day life on this planet grew boring. She was weary of this world and its customs. She wanted her's back.
A small noise made the woman jump, and she turned quickly to access who was in the room with her and how long they had been there, only to see a couple of jade green eyes staring up at her. Magenta let out a quiet breath, seeing that it was only the black and white cat that had wandered in the last time she went outside on a clear night. She hadn't chased the creature away, as it proved great company on lonely nights when Riff had to stay in the lab late.
Well, lonely nights and lonely days.
She crouched down, making quiet noises to signal the Earth creature to come to her. The cat came over, knowing no other owner than Magenta, and rubbed against her leg, and the woman brushed her hand against its fur. She called it 'Midnight', and took care of it rather well. She wasn't even completely sure Riff, Frank, or Columbia knew it was there. It was a foreign source of comfort, something else she could call her's other than Riff Raff.
Picking the cat up, she headed to the stairs, heading up and into her room, shutting her door quietly so that no one knew she'd even been out. It was strangely quiet. No arguing, no Columbia dancing and singing through the halls. It was an out of the ordinary night for the inhabitants of the Frankenstein place, but Magenta didn't mind. The silence was soothing after years of trivial noise. She set the cat down and walked over to her bed, smoothing the blankets that she'd made up that morning before forcing herself to get up and clean. She could still hear the pitter patter of the rain against her window, and the sound drew her to look out once again.
There were seats on the inside of her window, and she placed herself upon them, doing just as she'd been doing moments before, watching the rain.
Eighteen Years Before;
When she couldn't give him an answer, Riff shoved Magenta backward and started away from her, anger clear on his pale features. The young woman furrowed her brows, watching him.
"You don't understand, R—"
"What's there to understand?" He snapped, turning now, facing her. The judgmental look on his face was enough to break her heart by itself, his disappointed and hurt tone just adding to the pain and guilt she already felt. "How, and why, do I need to understand your need for those…those…Magenta, you leave me speechless! I'm completely baffled by your actions, and no, it's not a good thing!"
She felt the guilt rising in her stomach, or was she going to throw up? Magenta wasn't completely sure, but this wasn't how she saw herself moving in with Riff Raff. Losing their mother was beginning to take its toll on her, as she was sure it had already affected Riff more than her. Magenta took things in stride, but she knew it was because of the drugs, the alcohol, her dependencies. Nothing fazed her anymore. But this was. His voice, the look on his face…she felt as if she could cry.
"Riff…"
"I leave you for three and a half years. Three and a half years, Magenta!! And I come back to this. I come back because I hear our mother has died of an overdose, and I find you to be in no better shape than she was!"
"How can you stand here and argue with me when you barely kept contact with us?! You didn't call, Riff, you didn't care!"
"How dare you say that I didn't care—"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!!"
And he shut up. Magenta took in a deep, shaky breath, feeling robbed of oxygen at the moment. Her normally pale cheeks were tinted pink with anger, and she felt hot tears stinging at her eyes.
"You called…every week…for seven months. Every Thursday, near midnight." Her voice was soft. "I never missed your calls, I talked to you, told you how much I missed you…and you promised, Riff, you promised, you'd never leave me behind. You'd come back, you would come to visit…" She let out a choked sob that had been threatening to escape as she talked the whole time, and Riff's face seem to soften a bit at the sight of his darling baby sister in this condition.
"You never did. I lost you, Riff…I was…I didn't…"
"'Genta…"
This was why thinking was too much of a burden for Magenta. When she was alone for extended periods of time, no one to talk to, nothing to do, her mind let her know that the memories of her home planet were no better than the memories she'd made on Earth. Shivering, she tore her gaze from the window and to the cat now slumbering in her lap. It had been a bad memory, although there were much worse ones.
With her mind playing off her nightmares and delusions, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep that night. Or day.
The clock ticking away in the corner of her bedroom read three thirty am, on the dot. No doubt Riff was still slaving away in the lab for Frank, while he was either having fun with a new playmate or with Columbia, or even better, just sleeping. The man was lazy, hardly regal enough to be called a Prince, and she was ashamed that he was indeed the royalty of their home planet. It showed how much work the planet needed.
Magenta leaned back slightly, her head resting against the wall behind her, her eyes wandering back to the window and the rain droplets on it. Where was the moon, the beautiful planet that gave the night its light? The light by which so many creatures thrived…and how did they live in nights of complete darkness, like this one?
Complete darkness…she only knew complete darkness, in a figurative sense, a few times in her life. She would have gone so far to think it a worthless life, but there was Riff Raff again, in her head, scolding his sister for her ridiculous thoughts and scenarios.
But, were they really ridiculous? All her thoughts were based off prior knowledge of things, whether they happened to her or just the people around her. Magenta didn't think things that couldn't happen; she didn't remember things that didn't happen.
And all the things that did happen to her weren't the best.
Magenta often wondered what she would have ended up like if her past had been different. If she hadn't strayed off and done things she knew better than to do. How did they suck her in so easily? Why was she so weak in the first place? She'd never been strong, never, but she hadn't ever really perceived herself as weak.
Maybe she was. It would make a lot of sense. It would clear things up for her…wouldn't it?
She didn't remember much of it. Of what happened.
The guilt of the arguments they had, the feelings she had when Riff said the things that hit her perfectly in the heart…more so, the fact that everything he said was right, and she was completely wrong. Maybe that was what pushed her to use just a bit more with her 'friends' that night. And she should have known better, god knew she should have known better, but she did it.
The thought that she could very well die in the same situation her mother died in hadn't occurred to her. She felt fine for the first few minutes, and then she got sick. Most of her friends, save for one, bailed, but the one that stayed did what she wasn't sure she wanted her to; called Riff.
Riff, who was unaware that Magenta had even left, was less than pleased to hear what had happened, but Magenta remembered being able to hear him over the other end of the phone—he sounded genuinely worried. Scared…terrified of losing his sister, too.
She faded in and out of consciousness, hardly remembering any time in between Riff arriving, begging to whatever god they believed in that she didn't die, and getting to a hospital. Riff told her she was completely unconscious for three days, but…she heard things. She remembered conversations between the doctors and Riff Raff.
"What do you mean it's possible she won't wake up?" She remembered him snapping at the doctor. "She can't just die, she didn't use—"
He'd talk to her, too. When they were alone. Whisper how sorry he was for going off on her, how if she woke up everything would be okay again, he'd make sure of it. He'd be there for her, with her, for the rest of her life. He would never abandon her again, like he knew he'd done before. Oh, he was so, so sorry, and oh…he loved her so, so much. More than she would ever know.
"Magenta…please…wake up."
"Magenta. Magenta!"
She stirred a bit, and opened her eyes, realizing she'd fallen asleep against the wall by the window, and Riff was now trying to wake her up. She yawned quietly, looking around.
"What…oh. I must have dosed off.." She laughed quietly. Riff raised a brow and smiled softly, heading over to sift through some of the clothes he'd left in her room the other night so he could change.
"You must have. What were you doing, watching the rain again?" He asked, tossing a shirt off to the side, he'd get it later. "You've been doing that a lot lately. I do wonder what goes on in that crazy little mind of yours, dearest sister."
"I don't think you really want to know." She said quietly, pushing Midnight off her lap and standing, stretching. While she did so, Riff walked back over and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. She smiled softly at this action, dropping her arms to wrap around his neck, tracing her fingertips up and down the back of his neck.
"You have a nostalgic look about you. Were you dreaming of home?" He asked in nearly a whisper against her lips, placing a gentle kiss upon them before letting her answer. Magenta nodded, smiling again when he kissed her.
"Yes, home."
"We'll be returning soon, my darling sister, I promise." He said, threading his fingers through her hair softly. Again, Magenta nodded.
"You've been saying that for fifteen years, Riff." She noted, resting her head against his chest, closing her eyes. Riff let out a quiet laugh, shrugging slightly before wrapping his other arm around his sister, holding her close, taking in the scent of roses from her hair.
"I know. But this time, I mean it. Everything will be okay, and soon, so soon, we'll return to Transexual."
Magenta interrupted his little speech by pressing her lips to his this time, tiptoeing just the slightest to reach them with no problems. She held the kiss for the longest time, placing all her love and passion for him into the one kiss, and when she broke it, he smiled.
"What's gotten into you?"
"Riff, I love you."
"…" It had been a long time since the three words had been exchanged between them.
"I don't know what I'd do without you…I truthfully don't deserve you…I have put you through so much hell."
"…'Genta.." The older brother furrowed his brows, and Magenta looked up at him. "What were you dreaming about…?" Again, the woman interrupted him, kissing him once more, before pulling back.
Riff decided to leave well enough alone. They would be going home soon, the past was the past, and they could start over. They could leave everything behind them. Finally…after years of servitude, they could return home.
"I love you too, Magenta."
