Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope.
A/N: Just saw the movie; didn't care too much for it aside from Becky and co. and the scenes with Hardagin but that didn't stop me from writing this random piece of drabble. I think at one point there had been an actual reason for this story but it was lost and therefore it become something sort and random. A one shot in homage of Becky. Enjoy and review.
Baby Blue.
That's what everyone called her before it occurred to them that she should be called by her actual name. That was when she was just a girl, no more then thirteen though she told people she was older, at least eighteen but it didn't occur to anyone to believe her. She was just a child, skinny and frightened with blue eyes.
It was Gayle that started the nickname, she was certain of it; Gayle who had taken one look at her, rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Go back to your momma, kid." She had said.
Pouting, she had shaken her head. "I'm not a kid." Her protest had been weak. "I'm not. I want to be one of your girls." She needed the money, she needed the support, she needed to grow up.
Her words had gotten a chuckle out of everyone around, except for the beautiful Asian whom she would later learn was called Miho. She just stood by silently with her coal colored eyes fixed on this little girl wanting to be a woman, her wrists resting against the hilt of a wickedly long sword.
"Go home kid." Gayle had said once more, much to her chagrin. "You don't belong here. You're just a baby." Her words were condescending and patronizing.
She had been stung but she hadn't left, choosing instead to sleep in the rain on the sidewalk, trying to but a tough look on her face whenever one of the girls came around. All she wanted to do was cry; she was hungry, tired and uncomfortable but she had no money for food and nothing softer then the sidewalk beneath her. She glowered and pouted with the best of them but no one even looked her way; she was a child, her eyes gave her away.
"There's Baby Blue-Eyes." Gayle would call to those around her whenever she saw her sitting in the dirt. The girls around her would chorus this fact until they had better things to do then pick on the baby. Soon the nickname was shortened to Baby Blue because it took a lot less time to say and in Olde Town time was everything.
Several weeks had passed of the same, with her sitting on the corner only moving to call her mother from the pay phone every Thursday. Her mother told her to come home but she pretended not to listen. "Come home baby." The woman pleaded, unable and unwilling to understand why her daughter had left home so young. "You're just a little girl."
She was tired of being called little. She was tired of being called a baby. She was tired of being Baby Blue.
Every time she studied her reflection she saw the very thing that made her different then the others around her; the thing that made her young and unworthy and an outcast among the people that were the definition of the word. She closed her eyes when she saw their color and tried to wish it away. It didn't work.
One day the name stopped and Gayle addressed her by her given name. Becky she was again and she got to leave the sidewalk and sleep in a bed and have something on that wasn't smelly and dry. She didn't know what had changed but Becky wasn't one to complain; not when she was warm and fed. The girls called her by her name as well, though occasionally she was still Baby Blue but the tone and the meaning had changed and so it didn't occur to Becky to complain anymore.
But Becky still saw the color of her eyes as something of a burden, the thing that would always cause her to stand out when all she wanted to do was fade into the darkness. No amount of wishing would change the fact that she was blue eyed, something that she had never taken as a terrible thing until she realized it gave her the picture of innocence. It made the other girls scorn her, though they wouldn't admit to it now that she was Becky because they could never attain their innocence again; even after she had started getting regular customers and wasn't such a little girl anymore, Becky still knew they looked at her as being innocence and naive, something they weren't and weren't quite sure they wanted to be.
And Becky didn't want to be innocent either. That wasn't why she had left home. She wanted to be one of the girls, she wanted to be part of the family; she didn't want to be the child, the little sister. She didn't want to be Baby Blue eyes. But there was no way around it. One day Becky had told her mother uselessly that she hated the color of her eyes. "Baby, why would you say such a thing?" The woman had questioned. "Your eyes are so pretty, they make you look like a child." As though that was a good thing.
But Becky knew that no amount of talking would be able to convince her mother that being Baby Blue was a terrible thing.
After all, who wanted to be innocent in Sin City?