Hey guys! So basically, this fic is in response to a livejournal prompt, where the user wanted some cute Ralph/Vanellope friendship. The original prompt is below:
Prompt: So I've recently found John C. Reilly's version of Lullabye in Ragtime on Tumblr and I really love the idea of Ralph singing Vanellope to sleep at night.
It doesn't have to be this song, but maybe he's taking care of her as she's sick, or just really tired but unable to sleep. I just really want to see him tucking her in to bed and singing to her and being all parent-y.
Bonus points if she makes fun of him a bit and protests because "that's kid's stuff" but she ends up being really comfortable by the sound of his voice and ends up falling asleep because of it.
-
This isn't my first WIR fic, but it's the first I've published on here. The lyrics used in the fic are from the song mentioned in the prompt, Lullaby in Ragtime. When I gave it a listen, I just had to fill the prompt! Reilly's voice is amazing!
Sadly, I don't own Wreck-it-Ralph, and if I did, I would be one happy girl. Hope yall enjoy!
The perpetual night sky twinkled with pixelated stars above the world of Fix-It Felix Jr., and Mr. Litwak was finally locking up the arcade after a long night staying late to catch up on paperwork. All the arcade residents held their breath, anxious for the moment they would finally hear the clinking of the store keys. It had been a long day, only made longer by Litwak's extra hours.
Ralph, Felix and the Nicelanders had been working since opening, game after game, quarter after quarter. But, it was summer break, and summer break meant an arcade flooded with bored kids. Even still, Ralph couldn't remember the last time they had a day this busy. He stretched out his aching hands and arms in his hidden area off-screen, wincing as the sore muscles protested. He might be built for wrecking, but even he had his limits.
Felix waited across the screen in his own designated spot and listened for the all-clear. Ralph could see how tired the small contractor was by the droop in his shoulders and sag in his usually peppy demeanor. He glanced Ralph's way, and Ralph shot him a smile. It was nice, after 30 years of awkward silences and barely civilized greetings, to finally be friends with his game's protagonist. They had grown closer after the events of Ralph's game jumping, and formed a supportive relationship with one another. Only Ralph and Felix could understand the stresses that came with their jobs, even if they were completely opposite roles.
Finally, one of the DDR avatars gave the obligatory all-clear announcement that came with having your game in the first spot of the arcade. Felix relayed the signal with his usual, "Quittin' time!" and the whole game seemed to give a collective sigh of relief. "Good job, everyone, thanks for hanging in there today!"
The Nicelanders walked single-file past Felix to the apartment building's door, saying their goodbyes for the night to the hero. Felix swept off his hat and answered them all in turn with a smile and wave. Instead of heading directly inside, however, a majority of the Nicelanders (excluding Gene, of course) walked past the entrance to wish Ralph goodnight as well.
Warmth bubbled in Ralph's chest. It had been a few months since the Nicelanders started treating him like a person and including him as part of the game, but after so much time spent isolated, it still surprised him and brought a smile to his face.
"Bye Mary, Dania, Roy, Janine – thanks for the help." He waved a giant hand and turned to head to his apartment, smile still on his lips. "I'll see you for tomorrow's game."
As he strode across the expanse of lawn leading from the main building to East Niceland, the newer buildings for himself and Q-Bert's friends, he found his thoughts wandering to Sugar Rush. He tried to make it a point to visit the candy world as often as he could. Sometimes it was just a trip to the Candy Castle to see his best friend, and other times - mostly on days the arcade was closed – he'd spend all day there having fun with Vanellope. But tonight, he didn't think he could muster the energy to even walk to the train station. The visit would just have to wait until sometime when he wasn't bone tired.
He made it inside his little one-room apartment, being careful not to bump his head on the too-low doorframe. Ralph bee-lined to his bedroom and with a sigh, collapsed onto his bed. The frame creaked in protest before settling into silence. Almost immediately, Ralph dropped off into sleep.
That was, until three hours later, when a small knock sounded from his front door. At first, Ralph was too deeply asleep to hear it, but the knocking became progressively louder until, finally, the visitor lost patience and burst through the door themselves. Ralph awoke to a pressure on his chest, indicative of a small weight residing there. He blinked his eyes open wearily and found a pair of wide, hazel ones staring directly at him.
"AHH!" Ralph sat bolt upright, knocking the little presence from his chest to tumble down into his lap.
"Would you be quiet, Stinkbrain?" a familiar voice said. "It's just me!"
Ralph turned on his bedside light and squinted into the sudden light to see Vanellope glaring up at him halfheartedly from her currently upside-down position.
"Kid? What are you doing here?" He ran a hand tiredly over his face and glanced at his clock. "It's… one o'clock!"
"Yeah, I know that," she replied, righting herself.
"So why aren't you back in Sugar Rush?" he asked incredulously. "You know, sleeping, like the rest of the arcade?"
Vanellope glanced back at the front door as a breeze blew in, fluttering the curtains. She slipped down and made her way over as she spoke. "Well, I was. Until fifteen minutes ago. But, I couldn't sleep." She shut the door firmly, jumping up to turn the lock. "So I came here. By the way, you really should start locking your door, before one of the Nicelanders decides to mug you." She walked back and pulled herself up the bed with his sheets, sitting herself at the middle of the bed on the left side, opposite where Ralph lay.
He blinked at her for a moment, wishing he could just lie down and go back to sleep, but he knew the racer wouldn't leave him alone until he did whatever it was that she wanted. At that moment, Ralph felt every bit as old as his 30-year-old code. "Look, Vanellope, I'm tired. What do you want?"
Her face fell for half an instant before she looked away. "I…I don't know," she shrugged. "I just didn't know what else to do."
The halo of light from the lamp caught Vanellope's face, illuminating it in a way that highlighted the dark circles under her eyes. Ralph studied her quietly, taking in her rumpled appearance, paler than usual face, and the slump of her tiny shoulders. It looked as if she was more exhausted than he was. It was odd to see the little racer, usually so full of energy and life, completely sapped. Something in his chest twinged, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and drawing her closer. She took the opportunity to clamber up into his hand, tiny and weightless. He sat up fully, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and holding her up to head level.
"Kid, are you okay? You don't look so good," Ralph said, concern seeping into his voice.
She rubbed her eyes with her fists and sighed. "Like I said, Ralph, I just can't sleep. I want to, I really do, but I can't."
"Bad dreams?"
"Sometimes," she replied. "Mostly about King C - Turbo. But not a whole lot."
He frowned. Ralph knew that the whole King Candy/Turbo ordeal really messed with Vanellope's head, not to mention the years of isolation and abuse the imposter put her through before his game jumping adventure. She spoke of her nightmares once before, when they became so bad that she took to finding refuge in his company. After weeks and weeks of comforting her and reassuring her late into the night after every bad dream, they seemed to have finally stopped. Maybe the hard work of being president along with the long days of game-play were bringing them back, he thought. She never had a problem with falling asleep, though, which was what worried him most.
"Do you want to stay here for a bit?" he asked, careful not to push. Vanellope was stubborn, and he didn't want to hurt her pride by treating her like too much of a child.
"You mean, the whole night?" she asked hopefully, her eyes lighting up briefly.
"Oh – I don't know, kid –" he started, rubbing the back of his head. Ralph had spent many a night in the Diet Cola Mountain, or crashed out in the Candy Castle, but Vanellope had never stayed over with him.
"Please, Ralph? Come on, be a pal!" she goaded, cupping her hands in front of her in a mock expression of supplication. "I won't bother you much, I promise."
"Vanellope, I-"
"I think it really might help me get to sleep," she continued. "Come on!"
Ralph wasn't sure why he was even still arguing. He could never really bring himself to say no to her. He always gave in eventually. She knew it too, and used it to her advantage often. He sighed heavily. "Fine, you can stay. But be quiet, it's late and I want to sleep," he warned.
She grinned and scrambled down from his hands, climbing up his arm and launching herself from his shoulder to the bed behind him. Ralph rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling back the covers for her. She burrowed between the sheets, rooting around and squirming until she made a comfortable nest for herself on the empty side of the bed. Her head popped out from under the sheet, her hair messy and falling out of its ponytail. He chuckled despite his tiredness, and smiled down at her.
"Okay, Admiral Fartfeathers, comfy?" She nodded. "Good, now go to sleep-"
"Wait!" she interrupted. He jumped, caught off guard by her sharp outburst. "Could you – do you think you could…tuck me in?" The last words were spoken so quietly, Ralph had to strain to hear them. He raised a brow, surprised by the uncharacteristically innocent request.
"Um, yeah, sure," he replied hesitantly. "I guess." Ralph wasn't really sure how to tuck someone in, having never been tucked in himself. But her face was so warm and hopeful that he had to try. He reached down with his massive hands and arranged the sheets around her, pressing them closer to her small frame and sealing her within her own little cocoon. He pulled back, not sure if that was what she wanted. "Is that good?" She nodded, curling within herself further with a content sigh. "Great. So now we can go to bed-"
"Wait, Ralph-?"
He dropped his head back with an exaggerated sigh, then stared down at the face peeking out from the sheets. He had the off-hand thought, looking at her, that no one as sour-sweet as Vanellope had a right to look that cute and innocent.
She looked away, suddenly hesitant. "Could you maybe – I think it might help if you would, um-" She trailed off and fidgeted with the corner of the sheet.
"What?" Ralph snapped, patience wearing thin. She winced.
"Iwaswonderingifyoucouldsingm esomething," she said, her words pouring out in a jumbled heap.
He lifted a brow. "Come again?"
"I was wondering if… if you could singmesomething." He frowned, trying to decipher her rushed speech. She growled, irritated. "Oh, for Sega's sake, I want you to sing me something, you big hobo!"
His brows shot up and he took a hesitant half-step back. Sing her something? Ralph didn't really sing all that much, especially not in front of people. He sang occasionally when he was by himself, back when he used to be alone in the dump, and now when he's in his apartment, but it was nothing serious. And now the kid wanted him to sing her to sleep? "I don't know, Vanellope."
"Please?" Her voice was timid.
"I don't even know if I can sing," he replied, rubbing his neck again. "You probably wouldn't like it."
"I know it's weird, but – it just sounds really nice. Like it would be relaxing. Plus, I've heard other characters talking about their backstories and how their parents used to tuck them in and sing them to sleep when they weren't feeling well. I've…I've never had that."
She sounded so sad to Ralph that it nearly pained him. Poor kid was still so alone. Sometimes he forgot that she was just as alone as him, living in a dump with no friends or family to speak of. He remembered having a mom, but any fragments of a childhood he might have had were just faded images. He barely even had a backstory. And Vanellope having been disconnected from her game's code for so long, it wouldn't surprise him if she couldn't remember her backstory at all.
Okay, so singing might make him uncomfortable, but it seemed to be really important to the kid for whatever reason - so then it should be important to him too, he reasoned. He took care of her, more or less, no matter how vehemently she denied it. If he didn't do it, who would? She was his sidekick, and he was hers. In a way, they took care of each other - and he would accept that responsibility in a heartbeat, time and time again.
He sighed reticently. "Are you sure?" She nodded again. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "Fine. But don't expect anything amazing, kid."
Her eyes lit up once more and she snuggled into her covers, closing her eyes tightly. "Okay," she said, "ready."
Ralph sighed again, already regretting having agreed to this. With a deep breath, he began to sing.
"Won't you play the music so the cradle can rock,
to a lullaby in ragtime.
Sleepy hands are creeping to the end of the clock,
play a lullaby in ragtime."
As he completed the first few lines, he heard a soft gasp emanate from under the sheets. He pressed on, refusing to dwell on whether or not that was a good or bad reaction.
"You can tell the sandman is on his way,
by the way,
that they play,
As still, as the trill, of a thrush, in a twilight high.
So you can hear the -
Rhythm of the ripples on the side of the boat,
as you sail away to dreamland.
High above the moon you hear a silvery note,
as the sandman takes your hand.
So rock-a-by my baby,
don't you cry my baby,
sleepy-time is nigh.
Won't you rock me to a ragtime lullaby."
The silence rang around them in the absence of his voice, filled only with the chirping of crickets and far away snores. Ralph cleared his throat nervously.
"Uh, kid?" He peeked over the mound of covers to find her asleep, her face relaxed of its previous stress and her mouth carrying a small, content smile. He sighed, oddly relieved. Whatever it was that he did, it obviously worked. He smiled softly, glad he could help chase away her nightmares for another night. He reached down and pulled back the covers, slipping into bed as carefully as he could. The mattress dipped dramatically to one side under his weight, but it didn't seem to disturb her, even as she slid toward the middle. He flicked the light switch and the room was thrown into an ambient darkness, made somehow warmer by the new presence. His bed had never quiet felt so comfortable as he finally sank down, exhausted, for the night.
He glanced over at the small form next to him, rising and falling slowly with each breath.
"Night, Vanellope." he murmured, affectionate.
Moments later, beneath the darkness of his eyelids, Ralph felt the sheets beside him rustle. Small hands and feet clambered over his arm and up his side, and the small pressure that woke him up in the first place returned to its initial spot. He cracked open an eye and looked down to see Vanellope sprawled out on his chest, a happy grin on her face, as if she was finally where she wanted to be. Ralph drew a hand up and draped it over her, nearly covering her entire body. She was warm beneath his palm. A long moment passed before she spoke.
"You know," she said softly, "you actually have a nice voice, Ralph. Thanks for... thanks for singing to me."
He said nothing, only held her closer, and together the pair drifted off into sleep.