Afraid of the Water, Afraid of the Rain
A short fic about Saturday and Wednesday if they'd been resurrected. Post-canon.
It was cold out.
Not abnormally so, Wednesday decided, though it was a bit chilly. Usually she did not mind such things, but she found that she was more... fragile, she decided... since being absolved by Nothing what felt so long ago, though Art told her it was just a couple days. The sky above her was blue and sunny, despite the chill, and she smiled as she trailed her feet into the gentle, lapping waters of the Border Sea. I could live like this, she thought. What if I joined a ship? No one would have to know who I am... Then it occurred to her that Art would probably never let that happen.
"Excuse me," she heard a voice behind her. "I'm dreadfully lost. Do you know where I could get an elevator to the Upper House? I have an appointment, and I mustn't be late..."
Wednesday recognized that voice, surprised the voice's owner didn't recognize her. She turned, pointing. "That way. Why do you have an appointment?"
The woman pushed her blue hair out of her vibrant azure eyes that looked like the sky. Once, Wednesday recalled, they looked like ice. It was a nice change. "Trial," she shrugged. "Crimes against the Rightful Heir and whatnot. They're also accusing me of killing the Captain Keeper, though I pointed out millions of times that he's just missing. I had nothing to do with it! And murders of millions that they KNOW I'm innocent of, interference, destroying the House... Though I don't know why. What can they really do to me? I mean, I already died, and doing it once was bad enough..."
Wednesday nodded in absent-minded agreement. Did she really not recognize her? Once they had been best friends, before the woman with the bright-eyes-that-became-cold-as-ice betrayed her. Though she supposed she had changed. She was back in her beautiful, full Denizen form, not the disgusting, repulsive form she had occupied for millennia when she attempted to shed the whale's body. "I didn't have a trial," Wednesday whispered, "because I gave the Key up in the end."
The woman sat next to her, looking into her eyes. A look of puzzlement passed over her face. Wednesday knew she must have hated being confused, struck by recognition. After all, Saturday liked to delude herself into believing she knew everything.
Then Saturday spoke, slowly. "Wednesday? Is that... you?"
"Can you believe it?" Wednesday found herself laughing, and then the laughing dissolved into tears, and she didn't even know why. Was she happy? Upset? Mad? Angry?
"I..." Saturday was at a loss for words. Wednesday saw the tightening of her lips, the way her eyes frowned when she was displeased. Saturday was not enjoying this confrontation one bit. Wednesday wondered if she was going to try and apologize.
Probably not, though, Wednesday thought. After all, I don't think she's apologized once in her life for anything.
"I'm sorry!"
The words came out of both of their mouths at once.
"What for?"
Again they spoke as one. Wednesday fully gave in, crying and crying, and she was startled when Saturday quickly embraced her, then pulled away, red in the face with embarrassment.
Saturday turned. "I did what I thought was necessary," she added, and watched the sun begin to set. Wednesday didn't stop crying. Through the tears, did she see some fall down Saturday's face as she stood solemn and steadfast, or was that merely a distortion of her own?
Elevator beams lit up the horizon. "Gorgeous, aren't they?" Wednesday smiled through sobs. "Now they're everywhere, not just Port Wednesday... after you cursed me, there was a Deluge..."
"I know."
"I go swimming sometimes," Wednesday found herself saying, "but I'm always afraid, like I'll suddenly become a leviathan again. Can you imagine that? Me, who was created to live around water, afraid of it?"
There was a pause.
"I'm afraid of the rain," Saturday confessed, and began to walk away.
Wednesday suddenly had the urge to call after her, to ask her to stay. An elevator beam sprang up between them, and she saw Saturday step in, frowning at the Upper House Denizens within. As the doors closed behind them, she heard the strains of Saturday's voice, words lost.
Pleading.
Wednesday turned back to look out to the sea, still trailing her feet in the water. What have we become? she thought. Are we better or worse?
Saturday, pleading. Herself, avoiding so much as looking at food. They had changed.
Saturday's words came back to her mind, and she pondered them. Did it mean they were still as close, as alike as they had once been? Was there a chance their friendship could be, like so many lost things, salvaged? She remembered something the Architect told her. Everything lost ends up in the Border Sea...
Friendships too? Wednesday asked. "Friendships too?" she repeated, aloud. There was no answer.
"Me, afraid of water..."
"I'm afraid of the rain."