The Princess and the Dork

By TheOneAndOnly1993

It was an interview for The Mind Reader, that silly newspaper Anger's always got his nonexistent nose in that filled all the workers in Riley's mind on the happenings of her daily life. Papers are generally printed and updated on the fly, some could even say they just pop out of nowhere. But occasionally, they do an interview on some of the more "reclusive" denizens of Riley Anderson's mindscape. Interest in these strange little people, who might as well have been kings and queens, up in their ivory tower, spiked dramatically after the debacle regarding the San Francisco move very nearly resulted in the total collapse of Riley's personality, and the destruction of her psyche.

Naturally, the blame went to those directly in charge of her emotional well-being, and all five each deserved some share of it. However, "blame" is such a toxic and hostile word. "Responsible" sounded much kinder, and more respectful, on the little invitations the Emotions found underneath their pillows one morning.

Every Emotion agreed to their interview, though the conclusion of each varied between each individual.

Joy and Sadness were the only ones to complete theirs entirely, giving the full story from their own perspective, how they felt throughout, and what occurred weeks after. The only difference between each, was that Joy seemed rather melancholy in comparison to Sadness when her final question was asked, "And how are you feeling these days, after everything that's happened?"

Joy hesitated noticeably before answering. "Different," she'd said, rather forcefully. "The things I've witnessed, what I've seen, it's all been incredible and scary and sad all at the same time. But on the other hand, everything is just so different now because of it. This move, these mixed memories, nobody really looks to me for guidance anymore. And while it's nice to have a break, and I get really happy when I see my friends make decisions on how to take care of Riley on their own, I dunno. I just feel really...really small, now. Like, I'm no longer the driving force in our lives, and really, I shouldn't have been in the first place. And after seeing the absolute wonderland that is Imagination Land, the shivery-creepiness of the Subconscious, and the inner-workings of Dream Productions, suddenly...taking a shower and having breakfast just seems...trivial in comparison."

On a happier note, Sadness expressed how "grateful" she was at "finally being able to do something," and how her teammates finally treated her "like an actual person instead of an animal that needed to be contained and sneered at."

"It's really nice," she had said. "I like this a lot more than how it was before. I think I'm the only one who does."

Readers went nuts over her interview, to the extent where she actually gained a fanbase that sent her letters through the recall tubes. More than a few of them contained some unsavory jeers and criticisms directed at her coworkers. Though she appreciated the attention, it was Sadness's idea to toss any future letters into the trash after one so cruelly said, "Man, if I knew how mean Joy was I wouldn't have helped her escape the Train of Thought before it fell."

Thankfully, Joy seemed relatively unfazed by the bullies. Though Sadness knew, from both her interview and just the contents of the letters and what they said, that Joy was still hurting weeks after the Incident. Not just mentally, but emotionally as well. She did, after all, witness a good friend die before her eyes, was the one responsible for hurting Riley in the first place, and put many lives in jeopardy, Sadness's included, over the course of their adventure. Nobody goes through what she did without changing a little, nor do they come to terms with it without someone like Sadness to talk to and (occasionally) cry with. In a way, she reminded Fear of Bilbo Baggins. Joy laughed when he told her that.

Anger's interview went about as well as one would expect. When asked about the idea he gave Riley, Anger pulled out, leaving a smoke cloud, black footprints, and a whole rainbow of curses in his wake.

At least he answered a couple questions. Disgust was silent after her first, staring petulantly at the mic like it was covered in every vile substance known to man for almost an hour before it retreated into the ceiling on its own and the door unlocked for her.

When he asked what the question was, Disgust wordlessly shoved the index card in Fear's face and left him before he could peel it off his cheek. The first and only question she answered was, Describe yourself, your job, and some of your likes and dislikes. Standard. Then he read the second: Do you actually care about Riley?

In that moment, Fear understood what the prissy green Emotion felt almost every day. He didn't bother reading the rest of the questions; they immediately found a home at the bottom of the trash bin, torn to shreds so that no one else may peek at their contents.

But now it was Fear's turn.

With a gulp, the lanky Emote shuffled inside his own bedroom, where almost instantaneously the door lock clicked behind him. That's a fire hazard, he thought with a lurch in his gut. Or they could gas the room and no one would be able to save me. Not that they would, he thought with a roll of his eyes. I'd be choking on my last breath and Disgust would likely retch at the gagging sounds I make while Anger would laugh.

Fear clucked his tongue, pacing languidly across his room before taking a seat on his bed. Just as he began to wonder how the interview would be conducted, a mic was lowered from the ceiling the instant he sat down, and he suddenly felt something papery between his fingers. He looked down, and saw an index card with the questions on it.

Weird, he thought, but Fear did not dare question how The Mind Reader operated, or who even ran it. After all, if it can just make microphones appear in their bedrooms and little cards with predetermined inquiries pop into existence, literally on hand, who's to say they can't just as easily smite them all with just a thought? The idea made Fear's throat tighten. And although Disgust and Anger did not endure any white hot wrath from a vengeful tabloid god, the pessimist and worrywart in Fear just knew that he would be the one exception, should he choose to disobey.

With this in mind, Fear looked about the room, clutching the card in two hands. The silence in his room, with the mic silently hanging before him, waiting, put his nerves on edge and made him shudder. "I guess I should start now," he squeaked, speaking to no one in particular. Clearing his throat, Fear read, "Describe yourself, your job, and some of your likes and dislikes."

About ten minutes later, Fear had given his life story, what it was like living in Headquarters, and thoughts on his coworkers. He made sure not to say anything unsavory about Anger, knowing the firebrick would likely roast him if he caught Fear badmouthing him in a way that would result in more hate-mail.

"We don't get along much," he had said. "But Anger, Disgust, and I did our jobs to keep Riley safe until Joy and Sadness returned. They're dedicated to our girl, I can tell you that."

But when the "big moment" of this interview finally came, the one that has been on the back of his mind since he first got that invitation, Fear knew he had to play his cards right. He couldn't burn his way out of this, nor have the nerve to sit quiet for an hour. The only thing Fear could do was talk, which usually got him hurt anyways. But words arguably hurt less than a punch in the face, or pants gone aflame. Stick and stones, Fear, sticks and stones. With a deep breath, he read the question aloud, "How did the idea of running away come about?"

Fear looked down at his own two feet. It was Anger, he wanted to say. Disgust agreed to it, but I took no part.

That was the truth, that's what they wanted to know. The truth came easily to Fear, he was an honest Emote whose loyalties lied with the rulebook. Plus, telling all of the Mindscape who was truly to blame for almost ruining Riley's life would really give Anger and Disgust some well-deserved karma. Fear's brows furrowed as he thought of them; Anger, always screaming and hollering, ordering Fear around and being a bully who obtained cooperation through threats and intimidation, which in his mind was no different from trying to achieve obedience from Sadness by guilt-tripping her. And then there's Disgust, an Emotion whose beauty was only matched by her impertinent attitude and complete disregard for others' feelings.

To Fear, she was the very definition of garbage wrapped in shiny tinfoil.

As soon as he thought that, Fear eyed every corner of his room to make sure the Drama Queen wasn't there, reading his thoughts in that way she's known to do. He never knew how she did it, but somehow, Disgust could almost always tell what one is thinking just by giving them a once-over with that critical eye of her's. Fear knew she would yell his ear out if she ever caught him thinking such a thing.

Yes, a darker part of his mind thought. Throwing those two under the bus may actually be worth the injuries that would later ensue, if only to let the denizens of the Subconscious, Long Term, Dream Productions, Imagination Land and everything in between know how, how...just...unpleasant those two are to live with! And the letters he would get, all those kind words and sympathies that Sadness nearly drowned in a few days prior would be his.

All he had to do was tell the truth.

Or not. It would be much easier to hide under his bed until the door unlocked. But wouldn't that make the readers even more suspicious? Anger and Disgust made no comment on the idea to run away, nagged a voice in the back of his head. It took a moment for him to realize that it was his own. Anger and Disgust will be humiliated if I told the truth, maybe even hated. And then they'll hate me even more, if that was possible.

Then an idea came to him, a good one. But Fear saw absolutely no possible benefit that would come of this, only the probability of a gruff "thanks" and nothing more. Fear sighed long and deep into his hands. Why, oh, why did nice guys finish last?

I'll be hated by everyone, he thought, and then, but maybe I will be thanked by the ones that actually matter.

With that, Fear's mind was set. He cleared his throat, gave a tremulous sigh, and answered with all the genuine shame and conviction eating away at his nerve. He had to speak clear and directly, before it was gone completely.

"The idea to run away was a choice not made lightly. With Joy gone, I was the one in charge, and I knew we had to prepare for the worst in case she and Sadness never returned. With the Core Memories gone, I figured that we could make more if we returned to Minnesota. When I brought the idea forward, both Anger and Disgust flat out refused, but I was determined to make Riley happy again. So when I had dream duty, I awoke Riley from a nightmare and put the idea into her head, which she accepted. And when things started to turn sour we couldn't pull out, and I..." Fear swallowed the softball-sized lump in his throat. His voice shook. "I tried to quit, run away from my problems like a coward instead of facing them together with Riley." His breaths were shallow. "I'm sorry for everything I did, please, everybody, forgive me for what I did."

Fear felt an itch on his cheek. When he scratched it, his fingers came back wet.

When he looked back up, he gasped a little at the unexpected sight of the microphone still hanging before him. Fear was only confused for a moment when he looked down at his index card, and found there was one question left. He read and answered it hastily, "How do you feel after everything that's happened? I'm just ready to put the past behind me and move on."

Satisfied, the mic retracted into the ceiling and the door across the room unlocked. But Fear did not leave. As much as he wanted to check on Riley, he knew she was just having a boring television day at home. He wasn't needed when she watched her cartoon programs.

Sighing, Fear laid back against his bed, and shut his eyes. Soon, the seeds he planted would bear fruit. He just needed to see whether they'd bear sweet, succulent grapes, or rotten apples.

"Fear, what the HELL did you do!?"

Fear shrieked awake, and scrambled into a sitting position so he was facing the two Emotions standing in the middle of his room. Disgust had her arms crossed, as usual. Anger was huffing, crumpling a newspaper in his hand. "H-Hello, Anger." He smiled sheepishly. "Disgust. What's up?" Hands wringing together, Fear's eyes swiveled over to where the clock was on his nightstand. It read three o' clock. An hour had passed.

"'What's up'!? 'WHAT'S UP'!?" Anger bristled, his particles sizzling like oil on a hot pan. "Your head up your own ass, that's what's up! What were you thinking?"

If he wasn't so afraid, Fear would have blown up in rage. "What are you guys talking about?" he cried, shaking. "I took the fall! Now no one thinks your the bad guys, right?!"

"Yeah, exactly!" Disgust spoke as if it were obvious. "That's the problem, you ding-dong! We thought you'd get the idea that we weren't going to give away any detail on what happened. That's our mistake. Would have been much easier if you just shut your trap for once, too. But we have no reason to broadcast our mistake, and everybody out there," she pointed to some random spot over Fear's shoulder, "they don't have any right to know what happened!"

Fear felt his stomach do a backflip or two. How dare they, he ruined his reputation for them and they aren't even thankful!? Fear's face exploded into scowl, and he actually lunged forward onto his hands and knees, so he was staring down at the two Emotions like a starved predator poised to strike. "I took the blame!" he shouted. "I told them a lie!" He pulled back into a kneeling position. "I mean, come on! How come you guys always find a way to be mad at me no matter what I do? It's over, you're completely off the hook, and you should...! Should...!" Be thanking me, he meant to say, but Fear did not have the courage to say something so egotistical.

Anger, though slightly taken aback by Fear's little bout of fury, stepped forward again, scowling once more. "Exactly!" he growled. "You told everybody that it was all your idea, and that you tried to quit!"

"Under entirely different circumstances!" Disgust added.

"Now everybody thinks that that's what happened, and they hate you for something we did!"

Fear opened his mouth to argue once more, but just as he moved to speak the meaning of Anger's words suddenly hit him. They hit him like an Anger-punch to the gut, and looking to each of his coworkers, Fear was able to notice the little nuances in the way they held themselves at that moment.

Anger was still bristling and snarling and scowling and spitting, but looking into his eyes, with his brow quirked in a very not-angry way, Fear noticed a small flicker of...confusion? Bewilderment?

Is he...trying to understand why I took the fall for them? It was almost to good to be true. But when Fear looked to Disgust and found much of the same, along with how tightly folded her arms were against her chest, his suspicions were correct.

Fear's face softened, and he looked to his coworkers under a much kinder gaze than before. "It just felt right," he explained, then with a nervous laugh, he said, "I mean, I didn't even want to think about what you'd do to me if I actually told the truth! But if I did, then, well, it would really hurt you guys." He frowned, felt his single hair droop down, tickling the back of his neck. "I didn't want to hurt you guys like that, no matter how much you...you..." his eyes squeezed shut, unable to look at them, "...deserve it. And I really don't care if they all hate me, because they're not the ones I'm going to be seeing every day for the rest of my life. So...please, just accept that I did what I felt was right, so please-don't-hit-me-or-yell," he concluded in a rapid slur of words.

When only silence reigned, Fear actually thought they obeyed his pleas. So he made the mistake of opening his eyes again, and what he was met with made him want to crawl under the covers and never come out:

Shock, appreciation, regret. These were things Fear never expected to see from those two.

Anger, his lips parted slightly, fingers lax, with the crumpled-up newspaper threatening to fall from his grasp. The top of his head was cold as a frozen stone.

Disgust, one hand hanging, the other moving up to her hip and down again as if struggling to remain secure there. Her face was soft and full of shame, brows wrinkled in sympathy. And Fear wouldn't lie, her beauty really shined when it wasn't twisted by a disgusted snarl.

"Um," the low rumble broke through the pressing tranquility. Both sets of eyes were on Anger as he refused to meet either of them, keeping them planted on the floor as he coughed into his fist and said, "I'll, uh, I'll see you later, Fear. Don't stay in here too long." That sounded far more forced than it should have, but to Fear, he never even dreamed of hearing such words from anger-incarnate. The short firebrick waddled out of his room, Disgust wordlessly trailing behind.

She turned to shut the door behind her, and when she did, looked at Fear still sitting on his bed. She offered a weak smile, and said in a very reserved, un-Disgust-like tone, "Bye, Fear."

The door had been closed for five seconds before Fear answered, "...Bye?"

In that moment, Joy's words rang in his mind: Everything is different now. Whether or not that's a good thing, remained to be seen.

This is chapter 1 of 2/3. Still haven't decided. Hope you enjoyed the set up! Tell me what you think in a review, should you choose to leave one.

This ship is so damn cute by the way. There also might be some good ol' "Sadness/Joy friendshipping" on the sidelines.