Yes! I finally wrote another fic about Alberta! :D (Scott's sister, for those of you who don't know). Al asks Scott why he's going back to a show that got him put in a trauma chair. This not only explains Scott's return, but can kinda be used as an explanation for his sudden shift in character between TDRI and TDAS.
No pairings. Contains language.
Disclaimer: I don't own Total Drama.
"Scott? Are you asleep?"
"Yes."
Al glares at her older brother, even though he won't see it in the absence of light. "Then how are you talking to me?"
"I'm sleep-talking."
"Stop bullshitting me."
She can hear an annoyed groan as he wrestles under the blanket they're sharing. Money had gotten even tighter around their house while Scott was away on Revenge of the Island, leading to them giving away his bed (thankfully, he's no stranger to sharing a bed with his younger sister, Alberta). The bedside lamp is on now, the poor, weak light pathetically illuminating the both of them.
He pretends that he's annoyed, asking her, "What do you want?"
"Why are you going back on Total Drama?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm stupid. Good enough answer?"
"No!" she snaps, sitting up. "Scott, you were fucking paralyzed last time! Why would you go back for more? You just got back into full health."
"Yeah, just in time to go back." His condescending smile isn't a rare sight to see.
"I don't care if it's for a million dollars or a billion, I would not go back on a show if it put me in... in..." Her pale face earns a green tinge, her mouth falling slightly open as she thinks back on how her brother had been in the trauma chair.
Scott's raising an eyebrow at her as though she's acting ridiculous. Still, her blue eyes remain so concerned, so earnest. He knows the memories she's playing through her head. Just a few weeks ago, she wasn't able to look at him without wanting to cry. Her face had remained blank around their parents, grandparents, siblings... She was able to ignore the cracking, sinking feeling in her heart when she saw just what her older brother, her mentor, the single most important person to her, had become.
But how often would she head into the bathroom or her bedroom, pretending she was storming away out of anger or some "teenage-mood-swing" bullshit excuse, only to break down in tears and cry and cry until her face turned bright red and her eyes became numb?
The doctors Chris McLain had hired (and they were cheap ones, too, no matter how many millions he had) claimed they had no clue when Scott would recover, if he would at all.
He came back into the world in increments, first gaining the ability to move his pinky, and eventually his hand. Just his luck, he's left-handed and earned his right hand back first, making it basically impossible to read any requests he would write. His arm, his shoulders, then his legs― though one came back far before the other, forcing him to stay confined to the chair...
His lips and tongue remained paralyzed for a lot longer than any of his other body parts, making any time he would attempt to talk a nightmare. Their mother would exclaim the rudest things about it, ranging from insults disguised as jokes ("Things are finally quiet!") to clear jabs at her oldest child's state ("Give me all the shitty looks ya want, boy. I can talk and you can't!").
It had been the worst when Scott first came home. One of the show's interns had to help him out of the car (he would later tell her that they left him laying on the floor in the backseat, like a trash bag full of ratty clothes). Pappy looked concerned, Maw Maw was just confused, their father probably passed out somewhere else, and their mother looked at him with a mouth wide open before asking, "What did this idiot do now?" Al's reaction―
Less than pleasant. After months away from her only friend, months of dealing with their parents with no backup, months of waiting for Scott to come back with a million dollar case to finally make all their lives better... Months of waiting and anguish, and what had been her payoff? Not cash. Not the better life she'd been promised. No, just her brother stuck in a robot and a half-assed apology note from the Total Drama production staff (well, that and some non-refundable Chris Cash of no monetary value).
Every time Scott says a word to her now, assuming no one else is around, she smiles as wide as possible. Hell, she'll even smile around their parents sometimes! Who cares if people see? Who cares if she's got demons to deal with?
Scott knows this. And yet he's choosing to go back to the island where he'd been half eaten alive, to all the sick people who dared to laugh at him. He's choosing to leave his little sister all alone again, and she can't understand it. Why would he do this, not just to himself, but to her?
He takes his arm out from under the blanket, motioning for her to lay back down. With an angry sneer, she does. She lets his arm go around her in a hug, both for the comfort and the novelty, though the chilling look on her face is saying one thing: Scott Sawyer, you have betrayed me.
"I know you're young and stupid―" He starts, but she cuts him off.
"I'm two years younger than you, Scott. And we're still in the same grade."
"This isn't about that, Al," he says impatiently. "Now are you gonna fucking cut me off again, or can I give a goddamn answer?"
"Fine. Go."
He adjusts himself slightly, getting more comfortable. "Like I said, since I'm the more mature and responsible sibling, I know how much money means. And whether I win the show or not―and trust me, I will― we're gettin' cash."
"How?"
"Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'fame is money'?"
Al shakes her head. "It's 'time is money', not 'fame'."
"That doesn't sound right at all. Anyway, my point is, the more I get on TV, the more famous I get. Then I'll just charge people for stupid crap! I'll sell some wood carvings on eBay, and people like that Sierra chick will buy a shitload of them. Charge people for autographs. Charge people to get a picture with me. You gettin' me now? It's all a part of a plan."
"Why would someone pay hard-earned cash for your signature just because you were on TV?"
"Because people are sheep and celebrities are gods." He says it with a shrug, but then realizes the implications and starts smirking. "Heh... I'm a god. I have a bunch of stupid girls worshiping me somewhere."
"Shut up. You do not," says Al.
"No, think about it! I was on Total Drama. Somewhere in the world right now, some dude is drawing a picture of me and obsessin' over the details. Some chick is probably writing one of those 'fan fictions' or whatever they're called and pairing me up with God-knows-who."
"Why would someone be dumb enough to write a story about you? You never do anything entertaining."
"Exactly! It's stupid! And I'm gonna cash in on that stupidity, even if I don't win season five. Get it?"
Al makes a face, unsure. She's heard some girls at school gushing over Trent's music or Cody's eyes about a million times. She's seen people get into physical fights over the whole Duncan-Courtney-Gwen love triangle. The more seasons they were on, the more popular they were. Over half their school had auditioned for the fourth season, and were absolutely shocked to hear that everyone's favorite TV show only wanted Scott: the loner ginger kid who sits in the back of the class carving curse words into the desk. He didn't get to enjoy being famous just yet because of the chair, but now...
"I'll be more likable," Scott offers. "That should get me some more fans. I'll sabotage people a little less, I'll act nicer to people..."
"You don't know how to be nice. When-ever you say you'll be 'nice' you just act like a fucking moron."
"Then I'll act like a fucking moron!" He shrugs. "As long as I watch who I mess with, no one'll mess with me back and I won't have to worry about something like the... the trauma chair." He's still uncomfortable discussing it.
Al looks away from him, focusing on his arms around her and how badly she'd been in need of a hug recently. But she knows, the more she thinks it through, that this will be good for them both... Their parents don't even have to know about the money Scott gets from fans, meaning they won't try to spend it satisfying their own vices. Letting out a sigh that seems more annoyed than distraught, Al finally answers:
"Fine. Whatever. I don't even really care."
"Bullshit, you love me." He smirks, closing his eyes.
She scoffs, "Someone has to. G'night, Scott."
Closing her eyes, she lets herself enjoy one of the last moments she'll have with her brother before he leaves again in a few days.
"Night, Al."
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