Title: Savin' Me - Nickelback

15 – Heaven's Gates Won't Open Up For Me

'I need to talk to you.'

Zero paused on her way down the hall, raising an eyebrow at Van, who stood in the doorway of her bedroom. 'You talking to me?' she asked, glancing behind herself to check if they were alone. They were.

Van crossed her arms, impatient. 'Look, it's kinda important.'

A beat of silence passed. Then two. Finally, Zero sighed, stuffing her hands in her pockets. 'What do you want?'

'To talk,' Van repeated. She then reached out and grabbed Zero abruptly by the wrist, dragging her forward. 'Come on.'

'Hey! Let go of -'

Van released her once they were in the room, and shut the door behind them. 'Sit,' she ordered, gesturing to the dressing table seat.

Zero scowled at her. 'Yeah, like I'm gonna -'

'Sit.'

Zero sat.

Van stuck a hand on her hip, tilting her head a little and looking at her critically. She then reached out with a perfectly manicured hand, sifting her fingers through a loose lock of Zero's hair. 'You do have pretty hair,' she mused, now twirling it into a coil. 'May I?'

It was no secret that Zero hated being touched, and she clenched her hands in her jacket pockets, determined not to snap. 'No,' she replied through gritted teeth, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Van simply arched an eyebrow. 'This conversation will be a lot nicer if you say yes.'

Ugh.

'Fine,' she muttered. 'Don't you dare tell anyone.'

She clapped her hands together, beaming. 'Great!' And just like that, she scurried around to the dresser and pulled out a hairbrush, along with a million other things Zero honestly didn't know the names for.

Although she hated being groomed (Trixie had tried a few times, to no avail), she had to admit that it was kinda nice just to sit and do nothing while the tangles got combed out. Sure, she'd be caught dead before saying it out loud, and she would never give Van that satisfaction, but, well . . .

She scowled to herself. Those damn hormones were loosening her screws.

'So what do you want?' she asked tonelessly, picking at her fingernails.

Van hummed as an indication that she had heard, before answering. 'It's about Burt.'

Zero tensed a little. Well shit. She should have seen that coming, honestly.

'I know you slept with him,' she continued, blase as ever, 'but he's a dipshit and I dumped his ass a long time ago, so I'm just going to let it go.'

Zero narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Van never let things go, so this was a serious cause for alarm bells. 'What do you want to talk about, then?'

'Well.' Van tied off a braid with an elastic and dropped it over Zero's shoulder. 'First of all, before all the stories start going around and fucking with the details, I want to make sure it's not his baby.'

It felt like she had just swallowed a bucket of ice water.

How the -

What the -

She quickly glanced down at her midriff, suddenly afraid she had gotten fat overnight. She hadn't. Her stomach wasn't visibly different (perhaps just a little softer) so maybe she could derail this conversation before it began.

'What the fuck are you on about?' she asked, making sure her tone was both incredulous and confused. Van sighed in annoyance, now working on another braid.

'Don't play dumb, I know someone knocked you up,' she replied flatly. 'I've heard you puking in the bathroom all week.' She paused momentarily. 'I'm not as stupid as I look.'

Zero raised her hands in surrender. 'I never said you were.'

Though, she would be lying if she said she hadn't been thinking it.

Van huffed, resuming whatever she had been doing. 'So, is it?'

'No,' she replied, trying to convey what she meant without shaking her head. 'It's not – it's not – no.'

'Alright, I believe you. Don't start freaking out.' Van dropped the second braid, and when Zero looked in the mirror she saw her hair had been woven into a set of meticulously tight boxer braids. She wasn't entirely opposed to it – the symmetry was oddly satisfying.

Van moved around to the dressing table and picked up something else.

'Here's the thing,' she said, drawing up another chair. When she sat down, Zero realised she was armed with makeup brushes.

'Oh, hell no,' she said, reflexively leaning away. This was where she drew the line. She started to get up, but at Van's sharp 'sit,' she dropped back down again, sighing heavily.

'Us blondes have gotta stick together,' Van said, now happily pencilling in her eyebrows. 'And I think you're, like, the best person to help me get back at Burt.'

'I'm not blonde,' Zero replied pointedly.

'Sweetie, you're blonde. Accept it, move on. Anyway, I want your help.'

Zero levelled her with a dry, disinterested gaze. 'It might have flown over your head, doll, but we're both kind of lacking in the brains department, here.'

She pursed her lips. 'You might have a point.' She paused, an open pan of eyeshadow sitting loosely in her hand. 'But Burt's not that bright, either. Close your eyes.'

Zero sighed, but reluctantly complied. If anyone saw her like this . . .

'Look . . .' she muttered, curling her fingers agitatedly. She tried not to flinch at the odd sensation of the makeup brushes swiping over her eyelids. 'I'm really going through some shit right now, and the last I need to worry about is adding fucking Burt to the equation. Because right now, fucking karma is out to get me.'

There was a momentary pause as Van contemplated that. 'I think I remember reading somewhere that "karma" is a lot more complicated than white people think it is. Like, the word gets misused way too often and -'

'You're getting off topic, Van.'

'Oh. Right.' She resumed the copious application of powder. 'Honestly, I think this would warrant some good luck on your part.'

'. . . Still off topic.'

'Shut up. I'm trying to be nice here, and you're kinda making it really fucking difficult. I was just saying after all the shit you've been through, aren't good things supposed to balance it out, or whatever?'

'You don't know shit about my life, okay? Because -'

Van scoffed. 'I know your dad beat you up when you were a kid.'

' . . . what the fuck did you just say?'

The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and her eyes popped open to meet Van's.

'How the fuck do you know that?' she snarled, grabbing Van's wrist. 'How the fuck – I haven't told a single person my whole goddamn life, so you'd better start talking now -'

'Stop,' Van ordered sharply, face stony. 'I told you, I'm smarter than I look, okay? And don't you start hounding me about it, 'cause believe it or not, I know a thing or two about human decency and haven't told anyone.'

'That's not an answer -' Zero forced herself to steady as her voice rose an octave, clenching her fists. 'W-what makes you think it's true, then, if you don't know for sure?'

Van shrugged indifferently. 'I dunno. Ever since we were like, twelve, I've always just kind of suspected it. Y'know, with you being homeless and all. And then, like, you stopped hiding those scars in the showers and stuff, and then everyone knew something was up, so . . .' She trailed off, shrugging again and biting her lip. 'I don't know why I cared enough to think about it, but -'

'Well I don't know either,' Zero snapped. 'And you -' She jabbed a finger at Van's chest. '- aren't going to tell anyone. 'Cause then social services are gonna turn up asking questions, and that's the last thing I want. I've got my life under control, and you are not gonna fuck it up for me, okay?'

Van levelled her with the most deadpan expression she had ever seen. 'Oh yeah. Seventeen, unemployed and pregnant. Sounds like things are going great.'

'Shut up.'

'Also, socially challenged, dense as a brick wall, a bit of a slut -'

'Vanessa, I will fuck up you and everything you hold dear -'

' - and to be honest, I actually feel, like, really sorry for you.'

Zero paused to process what just happened, before exhaling slowly. An angry flush crept up her face and neck. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, I'm realising we're actually a lot more alike than you'd think.' She huffed when Zero snorted, before continuing. 'I'm serious. So I'm going to let this go, as long as you don't fuck with me again. Then we're going to have a problem.'

'Wow, I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me,' Zero replied dryly.

She rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, alright, whatever. Anyway . . .'

'What?'

'I know you've been on the fence about the whole abuse thing, and it's none of my business. You're going to have to sort that out for yourself. But rape? That's where I draw the line. Do something about it.' The corners of her mouth were turned down with obvious discomfort. 'Therapy, or something. Please?'

Zero, who had just started to stand, immediately wobbled and fell back into the chair, knocking it sideways. She hit the ground with an oof, heart hammering. 'What the – what the fuck? How – That was -'

'I had a hunch, and your reaction just proved me right. But get some help.' She folded her arms contemplatively. 'Consider it payment for screwing my boyfriend; I won't hold a grudge if you sort your shit out. Deal?'

Hearing it voiced out loud, so matter-of-factly, made her feel slightly sick. She just stared up at Van, eyes wide and mouthing soundlessly, completely lost.

'Why are you being so nice?' she whispered in a trembling voice, doing everything she could to keep from crying.

Van didn't meet her eyes for a long moment, but when she spoke, her voice also shook. 'Let's . . . let's just say that I've been there, okay? And I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, not in a million years.'

'Oh.'

She held out a hand and pulled Zero to her feet. Her eyes drifted down to her midriff. 'A-and like it or not, I can relate to this. That uncertainty. Feeling so . . . so fucking miserable.'

Eyes cast down, she moved to the door and opened it. 'But maybe you'll figure it all out.' She swallowed, seeming to regain some sense of bearing. 'Alright, now get out; sharing session's over. Being nice to you feels wrong on so many levels.'

Zero pulled a face, still internally trying to sort out her emotions. 'The feeling's mutual, Barbie.'

The corners of Van's lips tugged upwards at that, and somehow – somehow – it wasn't the worst thing, after all.

'Van?'

'Yeah?'

'I . . . uh, laxatives are always a classic. If you're still looking for ideas.'

The corners of Van's lips twitched upward. 'Bold of you to assume I'm not already planning that. But thanks.'

(The door to Van's bedroom opened just as Liz managed to tuck herself safely out of sight. Pressing a hand to her heart as she processed everything she had just heard, she couldn't help but let out a faint exhale of, 'Holy shit.')

This. This was how she was going to win.

Elizabeth had had her doubts in this, since Zero was the most irrational and unpredictable person she had met in a long time, but she figured that if she had any opportunity to get answers, this was it.

But she had to be very, very precise with her actions. Manipulation 101.

Knock, knock, knock.

There was a muffled response of 'Piss off,' from inside the room, barely audible over the clashing notes of rock music.

Liz ignored that.

She shoved the door open and waltzed in, doing her best to look as nonchalant as possible. 'Evenin', doll.'

Zero, who had been sitting cross-legged on her bed and sharpening a stick with a shitty old pocketknife, blinked owlishly. 'And what the fuck do you want?'

The edge of Liz's mouth tugged upward, though there was no mirth in it. 'Funny story, that.'

Although she clearly lacked intelligence in several departments, Zero Toriello wasn't completely stupid. Her blue eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin slightly. It was a subconscious move of asserting dominance, Liz noted, and felt slightly sickened by the irony of it all. 'What. Do. You. Want?'

'To make a deal,' Liz replied simply, picking her way across the messy floor and perching herself on the edge of the bed. She took extra care to make her actions appear as smooth and unruffled as possible, considering what she was about to do. Body language was crucial when blackmailing a person who wasn't very good with words. She tilted her head toward Zero, and arched an eyebrow. 'So I want you to hear me out.'

She scowled. 'Hey, we've never even talked before, so what the hell could you want? I mean -'

'You know,' Liz interrupted, inspecting her nails, 'I've never really wanted to believe the trope that pregnant women get irrationally cranky – you know, for the sake of feminism and all – but I guess I could be proved wrong.'

All of the blood promptly drained from Zero's face, and her mouth closed with an audible click. 'What the fuck?'

'And . . . I s'pose irrational people aren't all that great for listenin' to reason. Y'know, single track mind and all.'

'What the fuck, Elizabeth.'

Liz raised her hands. 'Look kid, I won't say a word. I've just come to ask favour of you, and your little . . . espionage group.'

That one had just been a wild guess – she still wasn't completely certain about this, but she figured she might as well kill two birds with one stone.

If possible, Zero went even paler. 'Jesus Christ -'

Liz was afraid she was going to throw up, but somehow managed to keep up her demeanour. She was an awful person. That was it. Fuck. She didn't want this. She didn't -

'So, now that we're on the same page; here's what you're gonna do.' She paused for effect.

Zero didn't reply, staring at her murderously. Her knuckles tightened on the handle of the pocket knife.

'I'm giving you a couple of options here,' Liz said, giving her a lopsided, careless smirk. 'One: I turn you and your little friends into Macbeth. Then you can all go down together - heroic exit, out with a bang, yada yada. Or.'

'Or?'

'Or, you can save their skins, and leave. Get the hell out. Without telling them anything, mind you - but you can protect their anonymity while you do so.' She inspected her nails with an air of unaffected nonchalance, before glancing over at Zero with a smirk. 'Nice eyebrows, by the way. They new?'

'Fuck off,' she snapped, hurling the pocketknife so that it lodged itself into the drywall on the other end of the room. Liz didn't even blink. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'

'A lot of things,' she replied easily, baring her teeth in a sharp grin. 'So what's it going to be, kid?'

' . . . but I don't get it, why should -'

'Because it's not fair on you, okay? I just think it's easier if I handle this myself, and step away -'

'I haven't had time to think, Zero, let alone talk about it! How would you have any idea what I want to do?'

'I don't. But – but look, I have. It's like – it's – damn it.'

'Maybe I want to be a part of this.'

'It's – I – you don't know what you're talking about.'

' . . . Don't I?'

'Shit, Vin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that -'

'Yes, you did.'

'No – it's – I -'

'Look, I get that you're not good with words. Neither am I. You don't want me to be a part of this? Then fine. I need some space, anyway.'

'Vin -'

'Look, I'll see you later.'

'VIN -'

It seemed like everything had gone downhill far too quickly. The whole week leading into December had been one enormous train wreck, and Trixie had absolutely no clue what to do about it. Vin stumbling into her room absolutely smashed in the early hours of Thursday morning was the icing on the cake.

'Trixie?'

Trixie looked up from her Algebra textbook to see him clinging onto the door frame, eyes wet and unfocused.

Oh. Oh dear.

Was this going to be a recurring theme or something?

'Vin?' she started hesitantly.

He gave a hiccup in response.

'Are – what's wrong?'

He sniffed. 'Thought I could fix it,' he mumbled sadly, stumbling forward. She caught him before he tripped, settling him down on the bed and letting him wrap his arms around her midriff. 'Thought she . . . thought she liked me or sm'thin'.'

Oh. Oh.

With a sinking sense of clarity, Trixie realised what he meant. He'd evidently tried to talk to Zero.

That clearly hadn't gone well.

'Of course she likes you, sweetie,' she said quietly, absently combing her fingers through his hair. 'She's always liked you.'

He hiccuped again, but it sounded an awful lot like a choked off sob.

'She's just – she's never been good at expressing her feelings.'

' . . . said she doesn't . . . doesn't wan' me t'stay.'

It took a moment for that to process, but once it did, Trixie made a strangled noise of horror. 'She said what?'

Vin mumbled incoherently. Trixie turned his chin so she could look him in the eye.

'Vin,' she said sharply. 'What exactly did she say?'

He sighed. 'I . . . I tried to talk about . . . y'know -'

'I know what you mean,' Trixie said impatiently. 'But -'

'I'm getting there!' Vin snapped, scowling. He clumsily scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. 'She . . . said it would be better for me. If – if I let her deal with it alone. The baby.'

Oh Jesus Christ.

'Fucking moron,' Trixie hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'Why the hell would she think – what, is she possessed or something? She was terrified before! Terrified of being left! So why does she want to be left alone now? Ugh!'

'Y'telling me,' Vin mumbled.

'This doesn't make sense.' She exhaled sharply and scowled to herself. 'I don't – it's not . . .'

She spent a long moment trying to compose herself, before giving up entirely and grasping Vin's shoulder with her spare hand. 'Honey, you need to sleep this off. We know you aren't nice when you're hungover.'

He hummed with quiet indignation. 'Hypocrite.'

'I'm not nice when I'm sober. There's a difference.'

He went quiet after that, not speaking for a while. When he finally did, his voice was soft, and a little rough. 'Trix?'

'Yeah?'

'. . . I'm scared.'

And just like that, her heart broke.

Trixie had always been one to keep her composure – to hold her own and fight her battles with calm words and razor wit – but right now she was angry. No, she was beyond angry; she was seething to the point of irrationality. And that, evidently, had been what dictated her next move.

Heads were going to roll.

She found Zero in the crowded corridor outside of Soper's classroom, and despite the fact that she knew this was going to bite her in the ass later, she snapped. Striding forward and grabbing her sharply by the elbow, she yanked Zero around to face her.

'What the hell did you do,' she hissed. It came out more like a statement than a question.

Zero frowned at her, trying to yank her arm out of Trixie's grip. 'The fuck do you mean?'

Something about that grated on her nerves in exactly the wrong way, and she couldn't help the little snarl that escaped her at that. 'You know exactly what I mean. Why do you keep screwing around with him? With Vin?'

Something darkened behind Zero's eyes at that. 'Fucking hell, Trix. I'm not -'

'He doesn't understand!' Trixie cried, throwing her arms out. She knew she was raising her voice now, but damn it she didn't care. 'Christ, you can't yank him around however you feel like! If you're going to be a bitch about it, at least let him know.'

'Why the hell are you fighting his battles for him? What are you, the messenger?'

'Oh no, no, no, don't you go looking for loopholes! He is in no state -'

'Then why doesn't he fucking man up -'

'You did not just say that. Zero Alessa Toriello, you are above that.'

Zero snarled. 'Apparently not. What, does that surprise you?'

The crowd around them had started to realise that something was going on, and a few people stepped back hesitantly. Honestly, Trixie didn't blame them.

'Jesus,' she growled, 'you're just digging yourself a bigger hole, aren't you?'

'It's not like you're doing anything to help the situation -'

'And why should I? You got yourself in this mess!'

'Then why are you helping Vin, huh?'

'Because you hurt him!' Trixie took a step forward, crowding further into her space. 'This is what happens when you do that.'

'You don't know anything!' Zero snapped, now clearly angry. 'You don't get it! It's not like -'

'I know enough, and you're acting like an absolute fucking jackass -'

It was going to happen sooner or later, and it wasn't exactly like Trixie hadn't been looking for a fight. She'd been itching for one, actually – a feeling that was disturbingly unfamiliar to her. So it had been instinct enough to swerve the uppercut Zero threw out, and retaliate by smacking her upside the jaw as hard as she could.

The commotion was loud around them; kids shrieked and backed away into either side of the hall, knowing well enough to keep their distance. A few of the boys whooped in delighted surprise, letting out calls of 'cat-fight!' and applauding. Van said, 'what the hell?', Ben let out a feeble, 'Trixie, no . . .', and Tom dragged Cathy and Bertha back a few steps, grumbling 'this is gonna get ugly.'

Zero blinked, clearly stunned that Trixie actually had the balls to hit her. Trixie had to admit she was a little surprised by herself as well. But she didn't have the time to think about it, because oh shit, she had just gotten herself in a fight with Zero Toriello. She was screwed.

'You don't know anything!' Zero rammed her into the wall with all of the compact strength she could muster, and Trixie groaned as all of the air was knocked out of her lungs. She did her best to knock her off, reaching out and cuffing her across the face with the side of her fist.

'I know that you're a coward!' Trixie yelled. 'You're a goddamn coward and you won't admit -'

'Shut UP!' She was thrown against the wall again, and Trixie couldn't help the awful laugh that bubbled out of her before she lunged forward and slapped her again, then grabbing her roughly by the shoulders.

'You know I'm not wrong!' she shouted, swerving another punch. 'I'm not fucking WRONG, AM I?'

A new voice broke into the chaos, a rough cry of, 'Hey, cut it OUT!' and Trixie felt a pair of broad, calloused hands dragging her away. She struggled against Newton's grip, elbowing him in the gut and breaking free, lunging at Zero again.

And then Soper was there, running through the crowd and throwing himself between them, hands held out in either direction in an attempt to pacify them. 'Hey, HEY!'

'FUCK YOU!' Zero yelled, trying to duck around him and get to Trixie. 'Fuck you, FUCK YOU -'

'You don't get EXCUSES!' Trixie shrieked, also ignoring him. 'YOU were the one stupid enough to get KNOCKED UP, so DON'T take it out on -'

The peanut-gallery let out a series of gasps and started muttering among themselves. Zero made a strangled noise of rage just as Soper tried to grab her, wrestling out of his grip. 'You BITCH!'

'GIRLS!' Soper shouted, shoving them apart again. 'Stop this! You're a family -'

'What the hell does SHE know about family?' Trixie yelled, ashamedly close to tears now. 'All she does is treat us like SHIT -'

'Oh, and YOU'RE so emotionally perceptive -'

'YOU think you can get away with everything just because you've got DADDY ISSUES! That's not how it WORKS!'

'I fucking HATE you!'

Soper grabbed Trixie by the scruff of her shirt as she tried to lunge forward again, and had an easier time restraining her. She struggled against his iron grip for a moment, before simply relenting.

Zero took a step back, eyes wide with a myriad of emotions, as though she were just starting to realise the gravity of the situation. That look then turned to fear – a raw, unbridled kind of fear Trixie had honestly never seen before.

'Fuck you,' she hissed, clenching her shaking fists. And with that, she turned and fled.

'Yeah, run while you still CAN!' Trixie screamed after her. 'Cause it's only going to get HARDER! It's only gonna – URGH!'

She forced herself out of Soper's grip, breathing heavily. Around her everyone was awkwardly silent, glancing at each other like they weren't quite sure what to do now that the show was over. It was finally broken when Hector let out a loud 'holy shit,' stuffed his hands in his pockets, and left. And just like that, the crowd dispersed, trickling into the classroom like nothing had ever happened.

Newton tentatively curled a hand around Trixie's forearm, eyes wide. 'What was that about?' he hissed. 'Oh, and you're bleeding -'

Trixie batted his hand away as he tried to wipe away the blood trickling from her nose, scowling. 'Don't.'

There was the sound of footsteps behind her, and then Vin appeared, looking groggy and hungover. 'What's going on? I heard yelling -' There was a pause, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 'Trix?'

Trixie finally realised that they were the only three left standing there. Soper had probably left to find Zero, and the rest of the kids had gone into the classroom. She swallowed uncomfortably.

'Just . . . just forget about it,' she muttered. 'Forget it.'

12/12/2021