I don't own RHPS, bla bla bla.

Trigger warning in this chapter for child abuse.

Chapter 4: I Saw the Light

Magenta laughed from her place on the bed. "I still can't believe you stole fancy restaurant pancakes for me."

"Pancakes, eggs, and bacon," Riff Raff corrected. "And if I remember correctly, we kept that plate and fork."

"What a gentleman you are, stealing your sister food," Magenta teased. Sienna, who was lying between them on the bed, stirred a bit to grasp at her mother's finger.

"It's a shame that that was the first and last time Father did something like that for us," Riff Raff said, reaching out to stroke Sienna's cheek. "If anything, I think he got even more violent and angry after that day."

"He did. To be honest, I'm a bit surprised at myself for forgetting that day," Magenta said, rubbing the back of Sienna's hand with her thumb. "It was rather important. The only time Father was ever nice. The day I met that - " she shuddered, " - repulsive excuse for a man, Marvel De Lordy. The last day I was really happy for a long time." After a pause, she looked at him, and leaned over to kiss him. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, wanting to sink into her arms and be there forever, but there happened to be a baby between them.

"It was also," Magenta said, when she pulled away from him, "the day I started to fall in love with you."

"Really? When you were seven?" Riff Raff said. "I can't pinpoint the day I started to love you, to be honest. It just sort of. . . ." he shrugged. "Happened, I guess."

"I didn't really realize what I was feeling was love until about four years later," Magenta said, getting off of the bed and picking up Sienna to get her dressed. "I remember the exact day, too. It was fairly shitty, but most of my days were, so my sudden realization is the only thing that made this day stand out. . . ."

She was so used to the whispers that followed her everywhere that she didn't even question what they were saying anymore.

Kids stared at her and pointed, and muttered under their breaths about how she was one to watch out for. She wasn't someone you wanted to mess with. She was frightening.

Magenta walked the halls of her school with a certain air of toughness. It wasn't a loud toughness that called for anyone to challenge her to a fight, but a quiet sort of toughness, the type that wasn't asking for a fight, but wouldn't back down if called into one. She was, at eleven, a far cry from the little girl who wore a stained pink romper and giggled at the Time Warp. This Magenta wore a ragged black and red dress with heavy boots and makeup that surprisingly looked professional, despite her being so young. Her pretty green eyes lacked any innocence at all, and her loose red hair hung around her face almost as if to hide it from passing people. She would've been lovely, if she didn't have such a permanent scowl.

A few of the braver kids gave her disgusted looks, but when they caught sight of those vicious eyes they shrank back. Good, she thought. It wasn't like she'd done anything to bother them. Just the fact that she was there, that she was from the inner city, and that she carried such an aura of intimidation were enough for those kids.

And she might've punched out a few boys who gave her a hard time. That was also a probable reason as to why she was so disliked.

She was exiting the school, ready for the day to be over and done with, when she heard him.

"Hey, Magenta."

Marvel De Lordy's slimy voice came to her from the parking lot. She almost cringed visibly when she saw him, making his way over to her. His tuxedo was so stiff he walked like a penguin, and his face red and sweaty with beady little blue eyes. Not like her brother's pleasant icy blue; De Lordy's eyes were the shade of blue a person's face turned after they'd been strangled.

"De Lordy," she said, making sure her voice was dripping with disgust. She kept walking out through the parking lot, making her way to the sidewalk.

"Where are you going? I've got something for you," he said, and suddenly he was blocking her way. She almost growled at him.

Magenta could feel the stares of the other kids from behind them, at the school. Watching to see what she would do.

"I'm not interested," she said, before turning to walk around him.

"You will be," De Lordy said. He pulled out a small, black, silk box from his pocket. Magenta barely glanced at it.

"I don't want anything from you," she said, this time looking him straight in the eye to make sure he got the point. He didn't. Or he did, but didn't give a shit.

"Here," he said, and he opened the small black box and pushed it into her hand. Magenta recoiled sharply at the feeling of his fingers on hers, but she saw what was in the box: a small red rose necklace. A symbol of love.

"I was hoping maybe today would be the day you'd change your mind," De Lordy said. "We don't have to talk about marriage right away, my little rose. We could just start off as special friends." He grinned at her, his silver teeth visibly having pieces of food sticking between them. "What do you say?"

Almost the whole school was outside now, behind them, listening in sharply and keeping their eyes trained on her.

"I say that's fucking disgusting." She closed the box and threw it right into his face.

It bounced off of his nose, and he hopped back in surprise. The box landed on the ground with a soft thud. He stared at her briefly, his red face turning almost purple with anger.

Magenta, however, met his gaze unwaveringly. "Stop following me and stop trying to get me to be your 'special friend.'" Her eyes were like knives. "I've made it clear a million times that I'm not interested. Not to mention you're just plain repulsive to me."

And with that she turned and walked to the sidewalk, with her head high and her shoulders back, hearing the gasps and murmurs of disapproval from the other kids around her. De Lordy coming from royal blood, most of the young Transylvanians would give their right arms to be wanted in marriage by him. Especially the ones who were as financially poor as Magenta. Yet, it just happened that De Lordy had set his sickly blue eyes on the one person who wasn't willing to put up with him for anything.

"You'll be mine eventually, Magenta!" he called back, scrambling to pick up his gift off the pavement. "I've wanted you since I was ten, and I'm not going to give up on you any time soon, my little rose!"

Without even giving him the privilege of a glance, Magenta said, "I'm not your little anything. Especially not your wife."

She continued this haughty walk until the school - and De Lordy - were out of sight. Then she let out a slightly shaking breath. De Lordy was only getting more persistent with time. Now that he was going to the upper school, where teenagers ages thirteen to nineteen attended, she thought she'd be rid of him. Not so; he was coming back to the lower school purely to harass her. According to Riff Raff, De Lordy was pestering him at the upper school as well, asking him all sorts of questions about what sorts of things Magenta liked and what he could do to win her over. It was getting so bad that her normally nonviolent brother seemed like he was ready to have a go at De Lordy himself.

When she finally reached the apartment after forty minutes of walking, she practically crashed onto the couch. Father and Riff Raff weren't here yet; father because he had work and Riff because he had an after-school chemistry club thing. Almost out of paranoia, she got up and locked the door. No need to have De Lordy trying to barge in on her.

She did her homework at the table and then went to her and Riff Raff's shared room to take a nap. After climbing to the top bunk of their bunk bed - yes, they had a proper bunk bed now, Father had gotten them one after they'd obviously gotten too big for the crib and cot - she curled under their blankets and closed her eyes, falling into sleep within ten minutes.

She was awoken by the yelling.

It wasn't unusual for yelling to occur in her house, so at first she tried to ignore it. It was Riff Raff and Father, arguing again about something trivial that Father had started. Maybe he'd made another disparaging comment on Riff Raff's career choice as a scientist, or asked Riff Raff why he wouldn't cut his waist-length blonde hair, or said something to the effect of "This is exactly why your mother left us!" Whatever the case, it was most definitely Father that started it. Riff Raff was too non-confrontational to begin a battle himself.

Then she heard her brother let out a yelp of pain.

Magenta bolted up and practically jumped off the top bunk, before running to the bedroom door to take a peek outside. Father was standing there, his hands bunched into fists, breathing heavily. Riff Raff, fourteen years old and no where near as tall or as burly as Father, was backing away a bit, his hand on his cheek, a small amount of blood on his lip. Magenta's eyes widened.

Before she could open the door to come out, Father lunged at Riff Raff and knocked him to the ground, and she could hear Father's fist collide with her brother's face, could hear him screaming, "This will teach you to talk back to me, don't you dare fucking tell me how to live my life, you little son of a bitch -"

Magenta was out the door before she knew what she was doing. Riff Raff was on the living room floor, on his back, with Father straddling his hips and holding his head with one hand, hitting it repeatedly with the other. Riff Raff's hands were gripping Father's wrist, his voice making harsh little squeaks with every hit.

She was soon at them without thinking about it, and she aimed a hard kick to Father's side. He crumpled a bit and let go of Riff Raff's head, long enough for Riff Raff to screech, "No, Genta, stay out of it, it's fine -"

But Magenta kicked again, this time at Father's hip, and he was now aware enough to catch her by the ankle. "You little bitch!" He yelled. "You little slut, I ought to kick your cum-bucket ass, bitch -"

With that he yanked her downward. Her knee collapsed below of her and she felt Father grab her by the front of her dress and pin her down, moving one of his knees so that it was on Riff Raff's chest. "You want a fucking taste of this, huh, slut? You want to get hit, too?" He backhanded her sharply across the face; the pain was sudden and strong. "See what you made me do there, bitch?"

She almost didn't notice that Riff Raff rolled his way free from under Father's legs and stood up. She did notice completely when Father put his hand to her neck, pushing down on it so that no air could get into her lungs. She tried to breathe in through her mouth, but succeeded in only a high whistling sound from the back of her throat.

"Do you feel that, Lavender? Do you fucking feel what I'm doing to you?" Father's eyes were almost mad with anger. "You don't like it, do you bitch, well you fucking deserve it, with all the shit you gave me -"

Clang.

Father was knocked to the side, his hand pulled from Magenta's neck, and she started to gasp like a fish out of water. Riff Raff was standing over them, a heavy saucepan in his hands, and when Father moved to get up, Riff Raff hit him over the head again. This time, Father lay still, on his side next to Magenta with one arm and one leg splayed out over her.

Riff Raff didn't talk or make any motion to check that Father was okay; he knelt down and scooped Magenta up as if she were a doll, carrying her bridal-style to the door, kicking it down before making a break for outside. Out the corner of her eye, Magenta could see Father begin to stir.

They were mostly silent as they sat on the beach.

It was twilight, with the pale Transylvanian sun just rising in the east, the west still dark. Magenta sat cross legged, drawing stick figures in the white sand with her finger. Her cheek and neck were red, a small violet bruise beginning to bloom on her cheekbone. Riff Raff's face was all sorts of messed up; bruises covered his chin to his eye, blood covered his the front of his periwinkle shirt, and they'd had to reset his swollen nose when they'd finally stopped running and gotten to the ocean shore. The beach was only a short twenty minute walk from their apartment complex, but Riff Raff had run as fast as he could with Magenta in his arms for the first five, before she'd made him put her down so that she could run with him.

He leaned back on his hands, watching the distant sunrise with a pensive look on his battered face. "Do you think," he asked after a while, "that Father will try to attack us again when we come home?"

"I almost hope he does," Magenta said. "I want to have another shot at him."

"No more fighting, Genta. He almost strangled you."

"Maybe he should finish what he started."

"Magenta," Riff Raff turned to look at her. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but the other could still pierce her like a knife. "Don't ever say something like that. You could've been killed -"

"Maybe that'd be preferable to this miserable life," she said, laying down on her back and not looking at him.

Riff Raff paused. "Did something happen at school today?"

"Nothing unusual. The kids are all scared of me, my old best friends call me shit like 'slut' and 'cow,' and Marvel De Lordy showed up to bug me again about being his stupid girlfriend. Everything's great." She bunched her hands into fists and pointedly continued to not look at her brother.

Riff Raff was quiet again, before asking, "How long has this been going on?"

"Since I was maybe eight," Magenta said. "When Father started to hit me, too."

The silence was back. Magenta felt Riff Raff lay down on his side facing her, felt his hand gently rest itself on her shoulder. An involuntary blush creeped its way up her neck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because you have school and your chemistry club and avoiding Father to think about. You're working to be a scientist. I don't know what I want to be yet. I'm just. . . . I don't want to bother you more than I have to."

At this Riff Raff sat up, and then got onto his feet. He reached a hand down to her; she looked up at him quizzically.

"I always have time for you, Genta. Don't ever think that I don't or won't want to know what's bothering you. You're my little angel." Despite the horrific state of his face, his smile managed to make her heart jump a bit.

She took his hand and let him pull her up. "You know what we can do that always makes you happy?" Riff Raff said.

Magenta groaned. "Not the Time Warp again. . . ."

"You love the Time Warp!"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to do it. . . ."

"Come on now." Riff Raff hopped to his left. "It's just a jump to the left."

For a few moments Magenta stayed silent in protest. Then she gave into his pout and said, "And then a step to the right."

"Put your hands on your hips!" Riff Raff grabbed his sister's wrists and placed them on her hips. "You bring your knees in tight!"

And then Magenta couldn't help it; she sang along with Riff Raff, loudly as they did the rest of the dance together: "But it's the pelvic thrust that really drives you insane! Let's do the Time Warp again!"

And they did. They kept doing the Time Warp until Magenta had to stop, her breathing restricted by her slightly swollen throat. Riff Raff laughed a bit and hugged her to him. "You know, you're very good at singing and dancing," he said. "You say you don't know what you want to be; I say you should be a singer or a dancer."

"I couldn't do that," Magenta said against his shoulder. "I'm not good enough to do that."

"Well, I say you are," Riff Raff responded. And Magenta had to admit, when the idea came from her brother's mouth, she kind of liked it.

She wasn't sure what made her realize it, there, in that moment. She was just a little girl holding onto her big brother one second, and the next she wanted to hold him like this forever, lock him in her arms and never let go. He was everything; her protector, her best friend, her confident. . . . and now she wanted him to be something more, as well. What she wanted him to be, her young mind couldn't fathom, but she knew enough to realize what it was she was feeling.

Love. She was a young girl in love with her older brother.

And that, she realized, was deeply and horribly wrong.

She pulled away from him so suddenly he looked confused for a moment. But she brushed it off with, "I think we should go home now. It's getting light out."

He nodded once before saying, "I want to show you something first, okay?"

She gave him a questioning look, but he just held out his forearms so that his palms were parallel to the ground. He motioned his head for her to do the same, and she did. Gently, he pushed his arms forward so that their fingertips were touching, then their palms, then their entire forearms. And then their arms were raised upwards, nothing but their elbows touching, until he carefully brought their hands back down again.

"What. . . . what was that?" Magenta said, not sure how to feel about this weirdly intimate-feeling action.

"That's called the Brachorea," Riff Raff explained. "It's a very old action, but two people do it as a way to show that they are more important to each other than anybody else. You are what's most important to me, Genta. Not Father, not any school clubs. You. Okay? Do you understand that?"

For a moment, Magenta's little heart sped up, thinking that Riff Raff meant this romantically. But a quick look at his innocent face told her that he didn't. She was his precious little sister. Nothing more.

"Okay," she said. In that second, she almost cried. There were almost a bit of tears in her eyes. But Magenta hadn't cried since she was five years old and her favorite toy gong had been broken. She wasn't about to do it now, and certainly not over some boy.

Even if that boy was her beloved brother. . . .

Riff Raff grinned at her as he turned to walk home. "You're a real dork, you know that?"

"How am I a dork?"

"I dunno. You just are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

This continued all the way back to the apartment complex. They stopped in front of the door, and Riff Raff took her hand, which made her heart beat just that much faster. "We'll be okay," he whispered to her. "He's sure to have calmed down by now."

They cracked open the door. Father was on the couch in the living room, the couch that covered the old bloodstain from the day Magenta was born. His eyes fell on them, hard, but he said nothing.

Riff Raff took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. "Father, I -"

"Riff," Magenta interrupted, her eyes cast down the hallway and toward the slightly cracked door of their shared bedroom. "Riff, there's a light in there."

"A what?" Riff Raff turned to her questioningly.

"The light, I saw the light. . . ." Magenta let go of her brothers hand and rushed to the bedroom. She tore the door open to find a large bonfire smack in the middle of the room.

Everything they owned was in it; books, old toys, their blankets, their pillows, their pictures. Magenta's eyes widened as she screamed, "Fire! We have to put out the fire!"

Getting over his initial confusion, Riff Raff yelled and went to the phone to call the fire department. Magenta got the largest bowl she could find in the kitchen, filling it with water and running to dump it onto the fire.

From his place on the couch, their father leaned back and shut his eyes, muttering, "That's what you cunts get for crossing me."