I know this has been done before, but I got my own ideas, and wanted to get them out, so here it is! My own take on what happened after the kart destruction. If you like this and want to read other versions of this unseen scene, I highly recommend reading Windsett's one-shot, Perfectly Broken. It gave me a lot of inspiration for this one-shot, and is just a spectacular read. Windsett, if you ever see this, please know that your writing is excellent! I also listened to a lot of music while writing this, and while I don't remember every song that served as inspiration, "In the End," by Linkin Park and "Left Outside Alone" by Anastacia, and "Behind These Hazel Eyes" are three that I also suggest you guys check out.
I know its long, but I really hope that you guys enjoy this one-shot. I invite you to leave a review once you finish it, telling me your thoughts.
I do not own Wreck It Ralph, and now that I've gotten the disclaimer out of the way, please enjoy!
Fragments of a Broken Trust
There was nowhere in the game of Sugar Rush where Vanellope felt she would be safe anymore.
She had fled to the one place she'd always felt the most protection blinded by her tears. Now unable to sob any longer, she realized that her choice had been a mistake. The bonus racing track loomed in front of her ominously, and she wanted nothing more than to kick and punch at it until the bridge fell apart and got devoured by the broiling hot diet cola lake beneath it. She wanted there to be no sign the unfinished track or any part of her mountain had been touched by another's hands. But her energy was gone, drained from her body like the horrible after-effect of eating too much candy. Only instead of it being a satisfying sort of exhaustion, Vanellope just wanted to close her eyes and never open them again. Tire tracks on the course and a lingering scent of sweet gasoline served as bitter reminders of how close she had been to making her dreams come true. Amazing how all of that hard work could be destroyed by a single non-believer, and the one who had helped create it all, too. "Look, what I'm saying is, you can't be a racer…"
She couldn't even think his name without feeling sick, but everywhere she looked there was something that made him impossible to forget. His gigantic footprints littered the ground around Vanellope, an unwanted reminder that he had been the only person she had trusted in a very long time, and Vanellope hated him for it. She had allowed him to come into her home, told him her dreams, even formed an alliance and broken the law with him, and all that she'd come out of it with was a painful reminder that she couldn't trust anybody. Briefly she wondered if she should go outside to see if he'd left behind the gift she'd so foolishly presented to him, but she didn't even have the strength to roll off her make-shift bed, and in all honesty, she wasn't sure her heart would be able to take what she saw. After all, why would he keep a crummy, handmade sign of friendship when he had what he'd wanted all along: his cold, hard coin?
"No, not a coin," she reminded herself. "A big, shiny, golden medal that he could bring back to his own game to make everybody believe he was a good guy. Well let them believe it." He would never be a good guy in Vanellope's eyes again.
Perhaps she should have seen that he was playing her. He hadn't even bothered to learn her name, instead using terms like, 'rotten little thief,' and 'kid,' and he'd been very against the idea of teaming up and becoming friends from the very beginning. But in the end, it didn't matter whether she should have seen it or not, because the fact of the matter was, she hadn't, and there was nothing she could do about her foolishness now except learn from it.
It was so hard to wrap her head around, especially in the fogged state it was in. If bad guys couldn't be good, and good guys couldn't be good, then maybe there was no such thing as goodness in the world. But that couldn't be right, because there was racing, and she could see nothing evil about racing. Maybe there was good in the rest of the arcade that she would never see, as she was cursed never to escape an environment that made a mockery out of the idea that sugar and spice amounted to everything being nice. In fact, if she would never get the chance to see true goodness, then maybe it would just be a safe and smart idea to stay inside the mountain and never leave again.
If he had hated and despised her, it would have been easier to deal with. Those were emotions she'd seen others feel towards her for years. It had hurt immensely at first to be considered a freak by everyone who saw her, but gradually she had accepted it. The ache in her heart had become a dull pain that could easily be remedied by quick insults. If she was in a particularly sour mood, hurling debris at the Mentos that hung precariously overtop the Diet Cola Hot Springs and watching the fierce explosions that resulted when they crashed into the brew was a quick and enjoyable way of forgetting about what had happened. But betrayal was a different experience. It drained everything from her, except the memories that continuously beat her mind and left her in a weakened state.
After the initial shock and disbelief when she'd learned she'd been ratted out to King Candy, she'd been angry, but it was a vengeful sort of anger. Who cared if there was one more person who didn't believe in her, even though he'd told her otherwise? So what if King Candy knew she was going to race? "Let all of Sugar Rush know!" she'd told herself. "And let them think what they want. I'll show them all and win. By myself." After all, she'd done everything by herself in the past. Why stop then?
But then he'd grabbed her, and the anger had developed into full-blown outrage. How dare he try to stop her, especially after she'd told him how much racing meant to her, how much it would change her life? He'd tried to spout off excuses, that's all she had heard, excuses, pointless arguments that didn't mean a thing to her if they meant she couldn't get out on the track. They'd flown over her head like birds disturbed from their perches, and then she'd been hung on a tree branch like a man with a noose around his neck, about to be hung. She hadn't realized it then, but it had been fitting, considering what happened next killed her.
And then…Oh God…And then.
That was when she saw his true nature.
That was another reason Vanellope didn't want to go outside. She couldn't handle the thought of looking down at the broken pieces of the one thing she'd treasured more than life itself. She could already see it perfectly clear in her mind, and she was positive it was the reason tears were still making their way down her cheeks.
She hadn't thought he'd been serious when he'd told her in the bakery that he could only break things, and seeing the finished masterpiece had further cemented those beliefs. While the kart had been messy, that had added to its charm and told Vanellope it was really hers. If it had been perfect, it would have been too easy to think of it as a figment of her imagination, made to feel real after years of delirious wishing. It had been more than just a kart though; it had been a sign of a growing friendship between her and the giant, and he had destroyed it as easily as climbing a candy tree. Every plea she'd delivered begging him to stop was only received by another hit. This was why feeling hated and betrayed were two different things. Vanellope wasn't offended; she was broken. The only piece of her that wasn't shattered was her heart, and that was because it had completely left her body, leaving her empty, like a hollowed out piece of chocolate.
"So. This is where you've been hiding all of these years."
"You." Her voice was barely a whisper, but it gave her body a brief chill, one of the first things she'd felt since running into the mountain. The feeling didn't last long, and soon she returned to her numb state staring emotionlessly up at the roof above her. At any other time she would have been terrified and furious that the speaker was invading her space and asked how he had gotten in. Now she couldn't bring herself to care. The mountain didn't feel like hers anymore.
"I saw you run in here. In fact, I saw the whole thing. That must have been hard."
Hard. A scoff barely managed to escape Vanellope's lips, which were beginning to quiver again at the monarch's choice of adjectives. Hard was trying to make a home for yourself in an uninhabitable environment. It was being called a glitch every day of your life instead of people actually caring to use your given name. Hard was NOT losing your one chance at showing everybody that you were normal, and having your dreams ripped apart by somebody you believed had confidence in you.
Forcing herself to stiffen up, Vanellope managed to roll herself onto her side so that her back was facing King Candy and she was staring at the mountain wall. She expected him to keep talking, but planned on closing her eyes and tuning every word out. He could say that he knew how she felt, but it wouldn't be true. He was a king, somebody who was actually liked. He'd never experienced what it was like to have everything ripped out from under his feet, and probably never would.
"Vanellope, I know that this was difficult for you, but I want you to know that I care."
At a few key words, Vanellope rolled over, her head popped up, and she finally looked at the king. "Excuse me?" she whispered, her words tinged with disbelief. "What did you say?"
"I said I care."
With the confirmation that her ears had indeed been working, a spark of her usual defiance ignited, and instantly developed into a blazing inferno. Her fingers folded into her palms creating tight fists, but whether or not they drew blood she did not know, for she couldn't feel them. The idea that he would have the audacity to make such a claim suddenly propelled her body. Jumping to her feet on top of the bed, she let out a scream, and her voice cracked in a few spots from lack of use.
"You don't care! NOBODY cares!" In her sudden surge of anger, her hand whipped out and grabbed the first thing it touched. Before she could even look to see what it was, it had been hurled up to the mountain ceiling, where it made contact with a Mento stalactite. One mint managed to break apart from the structure, and soon three more were tumbling down. Explosions set off in a rapid succession, but neither of the mountain's occupants made a move to get farther away to avoid getting hit by the burning lava droplets.
Once it had all settled down again, so did the fire in Vanellope's chest. Her knees buckled and she collapsed into a sitting position feeling even weaker after using energy that hadn't really been there to use. When she spoke again it was directed towards the ground, and her tone was flat. "All you want to do is punish me for trying to race again. Haven't you hurt me enough? You saw…him… destroy my kart like you told him to, do you really need to watch as I continue to suffer?"
"Now Vanellope, I know that you're in a lot of pain, but you need to realize that I never told Ralph to destroy your kart."
Vanellope's eyes betrayed her, sneaking a look at the tired-looking monarch. Quickly she jerked them back and tried to focus even harder on the ground, but what she'd just been told was making it very difficult to concentrate, and her vision continued to flicker back and forth as she tried to process the spoken words. "What?"
"I gave Ralph his medal back, but…he made the choice to break the kart on his own."
It wasn't so much that his words were confusing her. Rather, it was the way he was speaking that made her head spin. It wasn't a joyful and happy tone, and there was no goofy or smug grin on his lips. His eyebrows were creased, but there was no familiar scowl darkening his features. His tone was serious, but it wasn't a shout, it was quiet and hesitant, as if he was worried she would snap again. The only emotions Vanellope had ever seen him express were glee and rage. This was something new all on itself, and it was too much to take in all at once.
"Do you honestly think he would have teamed up with you had he known you didn't know how to drive a kart?
"You'd better win!"
"He wasn't looking to find a friend, and he certainly wasn't looking to help you Vanellope."
"That's it! I'm never getting my medal back!"
"Everything he did was to get his medal back. Once he'd gotten it, he didn't have a need for you anymore."
"If you're feeling nervous, just keep telling yourself: I must win Ralph's medal, or his life will be ruined."
The reminder that Vanellope had been used just to get a medal brought on an onslaught of memories of words. At the time they'd been spoken they hadn't seemed like much. Now they took control of her concentration and reminded her of how naïve she'd been, the reason her world was falling apart.
She didn't know when exactly, but sometime when she was in the middle of hearing the wrecker's voice, King Candy had advanced. When she came back to the present she found he had moved close enough to place a hand on her shoulder. It was warm, even overtop of her hoodie, but strangely enough, not uncomfortable. It made her wonder if perhaps King Candy really did care as he said he did.
"I'm not going to deny that I'm glad he did it. In the end we both got what we wanted. He got his medal, and I got the satisfaction of knowing that my game and all of my subjects will be safe."
As much as she wanted to, Vanellope couldn't bring herself to respond, but her question was clear in her desolate expression she gave him. Sure, they had gotten what they'd wanted. But when would she?
King Candy's eyes met hers, and she finally felt a spark of connection between their gazes. His tone was smooth and level. "I would never be able to forgive myself if you got out on that race track and ended up hurting yourself Vanellope."
The truthful answer was harsh, even in King Candy's gentle words. Never, that's when. It didn't matter how hard Vanellope tried to succeed; in the end, she'd never make it. And for the first time since she'd awoken, she wondered if maybe she had been wrong. Perhaps, it really wasn't in her code to race, no matter how much she'd thought otherwise. If it was, surely she would have made it to the track by now. Nobody would be trying to keep her from racing. She would have real friends who wouldn't lie and take advantage of her. But in a game dedicated to racing, if it wasn't in your code, then where did that leave you?
A glitch ran its way through her body, one of the first ones she'd experienced since running into the mountain. Once it was over, Vanellope felt sick to her stomach. "Maybe everybody's been right all along," she thought. "Maybe I really am just a glitch, a mistake in the programming never meant to exist." The thought was disgusting, and if it had been any other day, she would have dismissed the thought as a dirty lie. But somehow after all that had happened, it made perfect sense.
King Candy's gaze had never left her, and as she struggled to deal with the idea that she may not have a purpose, he chose to speak again. "There is a way where you can ensure that you never get hurt again."
"There is?" Vanellope could barely speak over the lump in her throat, but her hope was clear enough in her tone. She didn't even know what King Candy was offering yet, but all she knew was if there was a chance, she was willing to take it.
"I can bring you to a new place. You can forget all about this little incident. It'll be like it never happened. Nobody will ever bother you again. I might even be able to stop your glitching. Would you like that?"
Yes. It all sounded too good to be true, but she wanted it like a strange addiction. She wanted the memories to go away. She wanted to never be humiliated, hurt, and left crying until she couldn't breathe.
She gave a single nod in response, and immediately afterward, King Candy was helping her off the bed and to her feet. Vanellope allowed him to take her hand and gently lead her. The walk through the mountain went by in a blur, but as soon as she stepped outside, everything became clear again, and the first thing her eyes rested on was the debris of broken dreams. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and freely spilled, leaving salty tracks down her cheeks. A sob broke into the open, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to silence it, but the movement was seconds too late. King Candy noticed. Pausing, he used his grip to twist her body so that she was facing him, and then used the thumb on a free hand to wipe dry one cheek.
"Now don't you cry sugar plum. I'll get Sour Bill to clean that up. Besides, where we're going, you'll never have to think about karts or racing ever again. I'm going to give you a nice new home."
Had she been in the right state of mind, Vanellope would have noticed the dark undertone in his words, and the way his smile curled up just a little too much in the corners. But as she was, this new place he was talking about just sounded more inviting. More than anything in that moment, Vanellope wanted to stop yearning for something that was forever out of reach. So when King Candy started walking again, she did as well, matching his footsteps foot by foot.
It didn't take long before the pearly white kart belonging to the king was in sight, sitting expectantly behind a giant pink gumdrop. When Vanellope first saw it, her feet stopped working, and she was the one to halt, hesitant to get any closer. In all of the years the game had been plugged in, she had never seen King Candy allow another subject ride in his kart. As a glitch, King Candy had always made it feel like if she even thought about touching it,she would be committing a heinous crime.
Now, however, he just chuckled and pushed her forward. "Well, come on gum drop! We'll never get there if we don't get going!"
There wasn't enough room for both of them to sit in the seat, so Vanellope sat in one of the sharp corners on the crown-shaped back support, gripping on as tightly as she could before they'd even started moving. The drive was quick and unmemorable, two words she'd never imagined she'd use to describe her first driving experiences. It was also quite confusing, because when he stopped in front of the castle, King Candy turned to her, and spoke again. "We're almost there."
If she'd been hesitant about sitting in the kart, the feeling was multiplied ten-fold by the sentence. Surely he wasn't going to allow her to live in the castle? "Where are we going?" she couldn't help asking, but her question got no answer other than a chuckle and two more words: "You'll see."
The main doors were pulled open by the Oreo guards positioned in front of them, and King Candy drove straight through, only stopping once they'd reached the end of the main hall, where a throne was supposed to be placed. Vanellope had been inside the castle, without permission of course, so the pink exterior was nothing new, but she was still confused as to what they were doing there.
King Candy killed the engine, bounced out of his kart, and offered a hand so she could get down from her spot, which she accepted gratefully. "It's not too far from here, just a quick walk," he giggled, pointing at one of the many doors in front of them.
As soon as they entered through the door, the atmosphere changed. The walls in the hallways they walked through were no longer pink; instead they were made out of hard cubes of white sugar. While the temperature started out warm, as they went down staircases and around corners, it got darker, and as a result, cooler. Goosebumps the size of jawbreakers rose up on Vanellope's skin, and as the cold worked on waking her up, she wondered if she was just chilled, or if she was getting scared, though what there was to be afraid of, she didn't know.
Just when she was beginning to think they were never going to get to their destination, King Candy stopped at a thick arched door made of chocolate so dark that it almost looked dark. His grip on her disappeared, and he reached to pull open the door. "Vanellope, welcome to your new home." His eyes never left her, as if he was waiting for her reaction.
As soon as the door had been pulled open, Vanellope took off running inside, eager to see the place that had King Candy had made sound like a paradise. But once she was in the middle of the room and looking around, her smile disappeared. The room was empty, save for a sugar cube that served as a chair in front of her. It was dark, the only light spilling in from the open door as windows seemed to have been forgotten. In fact, the only things on the walls were pictures of circus animals and clowns. They looked innocent enough at first glance, but when she went to get a closer look, the sight was enough to make her recoil in shock. Every single face was painted with a sad frown, as if they were disappointed in whatever they were looking down at. Speech bubbles were painted above many of the faces, filled in with letters in an odd, curvy script that would make one expect that they would spell out cheerful words. Instead, every sentence was a reproach, making her feel ten inches tall.
Heart racing, she continued to back up until she ran into the chair in the middle of the room. As her legs made contact with it, her knees buckled again, and she collapsed into a sitting position. "What…what is this place?" she barely managed to gasp out, unable to rip her eyes away from the paintings on the walls.
Suddenly something wrapped itself around her, and before she could even register what was going on, it had clicked shut. It was tight around her waist, forcing her to gasp, and as she tried to turn around, she found that it was impossible. Bile rose up in her throat as she whipped her head around and finally caught sight of King Candy, who was clipping what looked like vines into round hooks embedded in the walls around her.
"What's the matter dearie? Don't you like your new home in the Fungeon?" His voice still sounded sweet, but this time there was too much sugar in it, making it sickly sweet. He didn't seem to notice her increasing panic. The name of the room flew right over her head as she grabbed onto the thick ring responsible for making her feel like her insides were being crushed. She tried to rip it off, but it was too thick, so she tried the next best thing. "Come on, Vanellope, glitch! Glitch!"
"Hoo hoo! I think you'll find that quite impossible," Finished with his task, King Candy made his way up to the struggling child. "Didn't I say I could stop your glitching?" He was still smiling, but it wasn't the same look she'd seen previously. It was a sneer as dark and twisted as her surroundings. As he tapped the front of the chain mirthfully, the only word Vanellope could think to describe his look was evil. But she still allowed her eyes to look at the spot he was gesturing to, only to let out a gasp when she read two horrible words stamped into the chocolate: GLITCH PROOF.
"No…" She refused to believe, but after trying again to no avail, she was forced to realize that it was indeed, impossible. In any other conditions, she would have been thrilled, but now it was just a sick confirmation confusion of a single fact: she was a prisoner. Confusion continued to grow, and she wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in her stomach to expel, and the ring felt too tight to allow movement of any sort inside of her body. "I…I don't understand. What are you doing?"
"I've done just what I said I would do. I've brought you to a place where nobody will ever bother you again. None of the other subjects even know this place exists. I know it doesn't look like much, but I have to punish you somehow for trying to race." He let out another chuckle as he rubbed his hands together with glee. "Spending eternity in this cell seems like a fair price, don't you think?"
Vanellope was disgusted by how much pleasure he was taking in this. "But…you said you were going to help me. You said you cared!"
She tried to lunge forward for an attack, but was promptly yanked back by the chains that now held her prisoner. King Candy tittered at the sight, clearly delighting in the show she was putting on. "Did I? Oh dear, it seems I forgot to specify. Let me see if I can make this perfectly clear."
His hand suddenly flew out and made contact with Vanellope's face. As it whipped to the side against her will, she couldn't stop herself from crying out, but even that wasn't enough to block out the ruthless monarch's words. "I care about getting what I want."
Another slap sent her head flying in the other direction before she could try to shield herself. Her teeth clamped down on her tongue, and the added burst of pain made her want to faint. King Candy didn't seem to notice any of it, just continuing to speak in his ice-cold tone. "I care about winning."
"Please…stop," Vanellope barely managed to spit out her plea, the taste of blood filling her mouth. Flinching back, she prayed that the worst had come and gone, and for a moment, it seemed like her pleas had been answered. But no sooner had she started to relax, when a third slap came, the hardest out of them all. Her inhuman howl flew up to every corner of the prison cell and echoed. Head spinning like she'd gotten in a collision, Vanellope stared at the ground and used all of her willpower to focus on breathing, not sobbing. As air flew in and out of her body as a pant, her chin was forcefully tipped up, and she found herself staring into the two pits of Nesquick sand that King Candy chose to call eyes. Wide-eyed, she felt like an animal about to be slaughtered as his voice rose over her again, still in that calm and cold fashion. "Last, but not least…I care about me."
Then his grip on her shaking body was again released, and the familiar, cheerful tone his final words flew out in made it seem as though nothing sinister had happened at all. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a kingdom to rule and a race to win. Have a nice life, glitch!"
After patting her head mockingly, like she was an animal, he left, leaving echoes of his twisted chuckles behind. And as the prison door slammed shut, and she heard the clicking of locks being slid and clicked into place, Vanellope slumped forward on the sugar cube seat she would never leave, rested her hands on her stinging cheeks, and began reminding herself again why she couldn't trust anybody.