AN: Hello, hi there. Welcome. Uhh some stuff: things get kinda violent? Here, and then like, more.. in later things so, keep that in mind. Uhh names wise, (tho it'll probably all get written into context later, but just for you now) Mike is short for Mikah, Neil is short for Janeil (she said they could shorten it, but she thought they'd go for like.. Jane or Jan... they did not...), Rick is short for Erika and Vyvyan is Vyvyan. That should cover it for now? Kay. Bye.
"Neil? Neil are you awake?!" Vyvyan screams, pounding on the door.
Neil opens her eyes slowly and glares up at the ceiling. What a heavy way to start the day.
"I am now, Vyvyan."
"Brilliant. The kitchen is on fire, do you mind...?"
"The what?" Neil asks blearily, rolling out of bed.
"Kitchen! On fire!" Vyvyan tries again, louder.
"Oh, okay, Vyv." Neil says as she opens the door. She stares at Vyvyan for a second to make sure that she actually is seeing a bit of smoke come off the top of her head.
"Vyv, your hair is on fire."
"I know! It's brilliant, isn't it?" Vyvyan shrieks, running down the stairs.
When Neil gets down stairs, she sees Mike standing over the stove with a charred piece of fabric in her hands, and Rick standing in the corner in her bra, shivering and attempting to cover herself.
"Your shirt really did the trick there, Rick. Thanks."
"D-don't mention it, M-m-Mike!"
"Ahh, Neil, you're awake!" Mike shouts. "Just in time, we require lunch!"
"Mike, why was the kitchen on fire?"
"Well it's a bit cold and the stove wasn't really warm enough, so Vyv thought she'd spruce it up."
"With lighter fluid!" Vyv interjects. "It worked pretty well for a bit, too, until it got to the cabinets."
Neil inspects the damage. Broken plates are strewn across the floor, littered with burnt lentils and charred cornflakes.
"I guess we can have umm…" Neil says, sifting through smoking cardboard boxes and broken mugs.
"Umm, Vyv, what's your recipe for broken crockery?"
"Oh! Well, FIRST you have to-"
"Nevermind! We'll go out!" Mike declares. "God, Rick. Put a shirt on. You can't leave the house like that."
"Mike that…" Rick buries her face in her hands. "That was my only shirt." She said in a very pained voice.
"Well, I guess you can stay here, then. We don't mind. Come on, girls." Mike says, turning towards the door.
"I- You're gonna leave me here?" Rick asks, forgetting her concerns about modesty and letting her arms drop to her sides.
Mike rolls her eyes. "I guess someone should probably babysit Rick. Whose turn is it?"
"I um-" Neil says loudly. Mike and Vyvyan turn to look at her. "I did it last time." She finishes, quietly.
"When was last time?" Rick demands from the other side of the room.
"When you had cramps during midterms and you kept screaming that you were gonna die. You dictated your memoirs to me. I had to use all of my paper…"
"Oh. That." Rick says, not bothering to argue. Her teeth have started to chatter. "I'm… Is there a blanket or something around here?"
Mike takes her coat off the peg by the door and shrugs it on. "Vyv, do you mind? I normally wouldn't- I mean you know. But Neil had a seven day nervous breakdown last time."
"That memoir… was so heavy…" Neil says, staring at the middle distance.
"I… Fine. But you better bring back a shit ton of food and some fucking lager, Neil. " Vyvyan growls, misplacing her agitation on Neil as always.
"Sure." Neil says, wrapping a scarf around her face several times. "Nff pffblm"
"What?"
"Bye, gals!" Mike says, slamming the door behind them.
Vyvyan turns and growls, glaring at Rick. Rick's eyes go wide as she backs into the wall slowly.
"I swear to god!" Vyvyan yells, running towards her with her arms stretched out. She's going for a strangle. Rick yelps and ducks, running past her just as she's about to reach the corner of the room. Rick bolts for the stairs.
"God, you're such a prick!" Vyvyan yells, following her.
Rick slams the door to her room and throws herself on the bed, wrapping herself in her blanket and cowering. She hears Vyvyan bang on the door loudly a few times, then hears her combat-boot weighted footsteps stomp across the hall to her own room. Rick lets out a relieved sigh, but the moment is short lived. She hears Vyvyan stomping back across the hall, then the sound of wood splintering. Vyvyan bursts into the room holding a crowbar.
"What the hell, Rick? Why did you lock me out?"
"Vyvyan get away from me with that crowbar!"
"Oh, right. Sorry." Vyvyan says, tossing the crowbar into the corner of the room. "Crowbar isn't really fair, is it? It's probably more fun if I use thisss!" Vyvyan says, pulling a bat from under her vest.
"How the hell did you- OW SHIT!" Rick screams as Vyvyan hits her across the face. "Goddammit."
"Shit, Rick, you're bleeding." Vyvyan says, suddenly appearing calm. "Damn, I split your cheek open."
"Are you serious?" Rick whimpers, hand flying to her face. She looks down at the crimson on her fingers and feels a little light headed. "My face, Vyvyan?"
"Wow, it looks nice. There's blood all over you."
Rick closes her eyes and hisses air in through her teeth. "Shit, is it on my bra?"
Vyvyan laughs. "Yeah."
"Dammit, this is my only one."
"Why do you even wear a bra, anyway? I thought you were a big time feminist. Isn't that kind of against the rules?"
"Shut up, Vyvyan. I wouldn't expect you to know anything about it." Rick says, tears falling from her eyes. She's trying her best but it really, really did hurt.
"God don't do that you pansy." Vyvyan groans. "You're gonna need a couple of stiches, but it's not that bad. Shut up."
"Shut up? Shut up?! You're not the one bleeding out of your face, Vyvyan!"
"I have had worse cuts than that, shithead. Get over yourself."
"Ugh. Fine. Just… Where are we going for stiches? Cos umm … there's a nurse over at the university hospital who kind of… Well, I don't want to get into it, but I'd rather not see her."
"Don't worry about it. I'm doing them here."
"What?"
"I'll do them! It'll be good practice!" Vyv says, grinning.
Rick's eyes go darkly serious. She grabs Vyvyan's padlock and pulls her down to face level. She doesn't let up even when she hears Vyvyan choking.
"You listen to me, Vyvyan Marie Basterd. You are taking me somewhere to get proper stitches!"
Vyvyan directs one of her wildly flailing arms and manages to punch Rick in the stomach. Rick gasps and lets go of the padlock. Vyv stands up and massages her neck.
"I'm not taking you anywhere, Prick. You'll get blood in my car. You only need about two stiches. It's me or Mindy Jenkins at the university hospital, and you may think it's a secret, Rick, but everyone knows you tried to feel her up at the Christmas mixer and she gave you a black eye and a face full of eggnog."
"LIES AND SLANDER! WHO TOLD YOU?"
"Come on, we're doing the stiches in my room."
Vyvyan is wrong and it takes four stitches. They stick out, dark and black against Rick's pale skin. Vyvyvan runs her finger over them gently, and Rick winces away slightly. Vyvyan has a strange look on her face. Rick's breathing is coming through in a weird way. Must be the blood or the stitches or something to do with pain, because that would make sense. That makes sense to her.
Vyvyan's eyes flicker down to Rick's chest. She traces her finger lightly across Rick's collar bone, smearing some blood across it.
"You should-" She swallows loud enough for Rick to hear. Her breathing is strange too. Nerves? Excitement? She just did stitches. That makes sense. "You should get cleaned up." Vyvyan says, finally leaning away from Rick. She takes a step away from her and pauses, looking her in the eye. Then she backs away quickly to the other side of the room.
"I uh… I need a shirt…" Rick says, quietly.
"Right." Vyvyan says, turning away to rummage through a pile of clothes on the floor.
"Here, wear this." She says, throwing a striped red and grey jumper at Rick.
"I hate that thing, I never wear it. You can have it… For five quid."
"Thanks, but I don't think I-"
"It's a fiver for a loan on it as well, so take your pick."
"Fine." She grumbles. "I'll pay you next… Hmm I… It'll be two weeks."
"I can wait."
Vyvyan paces for a moment, then walks out of the room and returns quickly with a damp cloth.
"Here. I nicked one of Mike's cos hers were the only clean ones…" She says, holding the cloth to Rick's face. She dabs gently around the stitches, watching the cloth turn pink as it wipes at the blood. Rick listens carefully. Her breathing has gone all funny again.
"Thanks." Rick says quietly. Vyvyan's head snaps back a little. She looks at Rick and contorts her face into a sort of glare.
"If you tell her that I took it, I'll mess up the other side of your face, do you hear me?" She says, shoving the cloth into Rick's hand and stepping back into the corner of the room.
"I hear you." Rick says, grudgingly.
She takes the cloth and wipes at her neck and chin, surprised at how quickly the cloth is turning red. She'd bled a lot more than she realized. She can feel Vyvyan's eyes on her, but she tries not to look up as she cleans her shoulder and her chest. She can feel heat rising up to her face. From what she can see, her bra is pretty fairly covered in blood. Not completely, but enough to stick to her skin and make her uncomfortable. It's wet. She's cold. She needs to wash it. She's going to have to take it off. She reaches around for the clasp and notices that Vyvyan is still watching her.
"Do you mind, pervert?"
Vyvyan rolls her eyes. "I've seen breasts before, Rick. I've got some, if you hadn't noticed." Vyvyan says, gesturing to her chest.
Rick swallows hard and tries not to look down at Vyvyan's chest. She doesn't know why. It doesn't make sense.
"Yes, but you haven't seen MINE!"
Vyvyan rolls her eyes again and turns around, leaning her head into the corner.
"As if I'd want to see yours anyway. You probably have messed up nipples or something."
"I assure you, my breasts are perfectly fine, missy!" Rick yells.
"Whatever." Vyvyan grumbles into the wall. "You have until the count of five, and then I'm turning around."
"One… Two…"
Rick looks at Vyvyan, sure that she can't see her from her place in the corner, but turns away from her anyway.
"Three…"
She takes off her bra and throws it to the floor, pulling the jumper over her head as quick as she can.
"Fou-"
"Fine, I'm done!"
Vyvyan spins around and slumps her shoulders towards the wall.
"Jumper doesn't look half bad on you. Better than the shit your normally wear."
Rick huffs and rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't expect you to know anything about fashion…" She crosses her arms shyly around her chest. "But uh… thanks, I guess."
Downstairs the door opens with a loud bang, like always, and Neil and Mike shuffle through.
"Soup's on!" Mike bellows towards the staircase.
"But we didn't get soup, Mike. We got Chinese food." Neil says, looking confused. Mike says nothing and proceeds into the kitchen, sitting down in her usual spot. Neil shuffles in, holding all the bags, and tries to find a bit of counter that doesn't look too charred to hold some weight.
"Did you get any lager?" Vyvyan yells, bounding out of the room.
Rick sits down on the bed for a moment. She isn't ready to go downstairs yet. She traces her finger across the stiches in her cheek. Vyvyan actually did a pretty good job, from what Rick understands about stiches. She can sort of still feel Vyvyan's hands on her face if she stops trying to forget. Something is weird. It doesn't make sense. Her heart is beating too loud in her ears. It's not the blood and it's not the pain. It doesn't make sense.
She hates how much she loves the jumper.