A/N: Is...is this fandom...still alive? :'O
Enjoy this fanfic I wrote circa 2013-14 and never posted. I've been getting back into WiR lately, so who knows, maybe I'll write more...
"Dreams? Uh…what do you mean by that, kid?"
It was a lazy Sunday evening. Ralph and Vanellope were lying out on the grass just by the borders of the Niceland forest, gazing up at the stars above, as they often did on Sunday evenings. So far conversation had been peacefully sparse, but just now Vanellope had suddenly asked if Ralph ever had dreams.
Vanellope gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes. "You know, Ralph. Dreams." She rolled over on her side and formed a pillow with her hands, resting her head on it. She shut her eyes, lolled her tongue out of her mouth, and proceeded to produce some truly cringe-worthy fake snores. There was even a string of drool dripping onto her imaginary pillow.
Ralph turned his head to look at her and couldn't help but snicker at her comical gesture. "Yeah, okay. Got it. Sleep dreams."
Vanellope promptly woke up from her nonexistent slumber. "Yeah, sleep dreams, gah-doi. What other kinda dreams are there?"
"Well, there's dreams, like ambitions…" Ralph began, but Vanellope snorted and waved her hand dismissively.
"Ah, forget about those. I've already achieved everything I want in life. Be a good president, be the best racer. Been there, done that."
"I don't think it's very characteristic of a 'good president' to throw a tantrum whenever she loses a game of checkers, but okay."
"And you've already accomplished all of your dreams, haven'tcha, Ralphie?" Vanellope sat up on her knees and gave him a playful poke in the nose. "Bein' a hero and being liked and all."
"Yeah, but not quite. I also strive to be the best friend a snotty presidential brat could possibly have," Ralph said, grinning up at her and causing her to giggle.
"Then yeah—you've already accomplished all your dreams," Vanellope said with an equally large grin, punching Ralph playfully in the shoulder. "But seriously. Sleep dreams. You ever have those?"
Ralph sat up, running a giant hand over his hair and putting his arms down behind him, leaning back. "Uh, well yeah, I guess so."
Vanellope scrambled over and leaned her elbows on his knee, resting her cheeks on the knuckles of her clenched fists. "You guess so? I'm askin' definite answers, chumbo."
Ralph shrugged his shoulders. "None that really stick out to me, I guess. I kinda forget 'em after a while."
"Same here." Vanellope traced a circle on his knee with her index finger in what appeared to be childlike boredom. "But like, you ever have really specific dreams that do stick out to you? And it makes you go, whoa, why the sugar frosted flakes did I dream that?"
"Hm." Ralph squinted and scanned the skies in apparent thought.
"…Ah. Well," he said finally, prompting the little ragamuffin to look up at him again. "One time, before I met you, I dreamed all the bricks in the dump over there—" he pointed toward East Niceland, "—constructed themselves into this big giant titan thing."
"Cool!" Vanellope cried.
"Yeah, and then it attacked the Niceland apartment. One fell swoop and the building just crumbled." He slammed his fist into his palm and spread his fingers to demonstrate. "Just, kersmash. The thing was decimated."
"Did all the people inside die?!"
"Uh…" Ralph gave her a reproachful frown. "No, I'm pretty sure it was empty."
"Oh." Vanellope frowned too, only she looked like she was disappointed. However, the look quickly vanished, replaced by a sly smile.
"But Ralph, that was a cool dream. D'ya ever have, like…embarrassing dreams?"
"Embarrassing dreams? What…"
"Y'know, like dream that you're naked in public and you can't find your clothes anywhere," she explained as a goofy grin spread across her face. Ralph raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"What, have you had that dream before, Lady Loco-in-the-Coco?"
"Maaaybe, Sir Stinkbrain," Vanellope responded slowly.
"I've heard that kinda dream means you're insecure," Ralph commented, causing her to sputter indignantly.
"Insecure?! I am not insecure!" she exclaimed defensively, sounding rather self-conscious. "I am the most secure person in the world! I never worry about anything!"
"If you say so, kid. Uh…let's see…once I dreamed I had the worst case of bad breath ever and everyone was avoiding me."
"Are ya sure that was a dream? Your breath is already pretty rank, Stinky McSmellerson," Vanellope quipped with an impish grin.
"Very cute, you candy-coated sugar troll. But it was even worse than average."
"I've heard that kinda dream means you gotta brush your teeth more often and eat less garlic," Vanellope smirked, mimicking his tone from before. Ralph scrunched up his nose at her and she burst into hysterical laughter, forcing him to wait several seconds before she calmed back down. He rolled his eyes, although he couldn't help but smile a little.
"How about sad dreams? You ever have sad dreams, Ralph?" Vanellope asked upon her recovery.
"Sad dreams? Um…" Ralph scratched his head. "Once I dreamed you begged me to let you keep this lost puppy we found in Game Central."
"Ooh, a puppy?!" Vanellope squealed.
"Yeah, a puppy," Ralph chuckled. "So I told you that you could keep it, but that you had to take good care of it, but you, uh, didn't…"
"I didn't?" Vanellope's eyes widened, making her look crestfallen. "Whaddaya mean, I didn't?"
"I mean, you didn't keep an eye on him and he ran away." Ralph had a faraway look in his eyes as he recounted the vision. "Man, you were heartbroken. After we looked everywhere for it you knelt down on the floor and cried because you hadn't even decided on a name for him yet."
"Oh…" Vanellope dropped her head down into her arms, looking as if she really had lost a puppy. "Golly gumdrops, that is pretty depressing…"
"Do you have sad dreams?" Ralph asked quickly, as if to change the subject. The beseeching look on his face suggested that he didn't want to see the kid upset over a lost puppy that had never existed.
Vanellope lifted her head a tad. "Um…one time I had a dream where I tried to make the sarge a cake for her game anniversary, but it turned out all wrong and she hated it."
"Calhoun?"
"Yeah, Calhoun. What, do we know any other sergeants around here?"
"Just checkin'. So you made her a cake?"
"Well, I tried," Vanellope said protectively, making a face. "I don't remember that well, but I think I was in Felix's kitchen and he gave me a buncha instructions for how to make this special cake for Sarge, see? Only, the cookbook was enchanted or something! The letters and the words in it kept blurring in and out and moving around… Glitching!" she said suddenly. "Yeah, glitching. The words were glitching. So I couldn't read Felix's dumb glitchy cookbook, but I had to do something, so I just kinda guessed all the ingredients and mixed it together and baked it."
"I'm guessing Cal didn't like that very much," Ralph remarked.
Vanellope sighed and propped her head up on her palm again, drumming her fingers on Ralph's knee. "Nope. She told me I was a horrible baker. Which is not true. I'm a terrific baker."
"You especially did a good job on that kart of yours," Ralph joked, but Vanellope didn't seem to catch the irony.
"You mean we did a fantastic job on that kart of ours," she corrected with her usual toothy grin.
"Heh. Yes we did." Ralph smiled back, deciding he liked that better. "How about happy dreams. You ever have happy dreams?"
"I dream about winning races sometimes," Vanellope said, picking a hard candy out of her bangs and inspecting it, rolling it between her fingers.
"I know you do. I've seen you do it," Ralph laughed. "You make car noises in your sleep. Rrrrrrr, whoosh. Zoom!" He pretended to handle a steering wheel and swayed with the turn of the imaginary kart. "Your feet move like you're pushing pedals, too."
"Hey!" Vanellope cried, blushing slightly and pelting him with the piece of candy. "I do not do that!"
"Fine, fine, okay." Ralph picked the candy up and pressed it back into her hair, chuckling. "But it's kinda cute."
"Hmph." Vanellope pressed her lips together in an indignant pout before continuing. "Anyway, I dream I'm winning races and you guys are all cheering me on. You, and Felix, and the sarge." She smiled at the grass, seeming to enjoy the thought. "How about you, Ralph? What's your happy dream."
"My happy dream is…well, I guess it's just a bunch of memories strung together that I dream about from time to time," Ralph answered, tossing his hand. Vanellope raised her eyebrows, appearing interested.
"Like…?"
"Like when we built your kart together, or when the Nicelanders threw me a party for the first time…helping out Q*bert and all those guys…things like that."
"Ah. Cool." Vanellope chewed idly on her hoodie drawstring before letting it fall from her mouth. "Oh, I've got another happy dream—once I dreamed that you and me could fly and so we were flying around everywhere being rad."
"Being rad, huh," Ralph chuckled.
"Yep. We were so rad."
"Did we have wings?"
"No, it was like telekinesis or something. We could just fly." Vanellope stood up and started running around in circles with her arms outspread. "Like this!"
"Oh, you mean like this!" Ralph suddenly scooped her up in his hands and stood up also, raising her up above his head and running in her circles.
Vanellope cackled. "Hahaha! Ralph! Put me down, ya crazy kook!"
Ralph's laughter joined hers and he complied, sitting back down against a nearby tree and setting her on his lap. "Still though, flying seems to fit under the 'cool dream' category. Along with my brick titan."
"Yeah, I guess it does," Vanellope agreed. "But it made me happy 'cause I was with you, so that also makes it a happy dream." She laid her head back against Ralph's chest and introduced the next prompt.
"D'ya ever have weird dreams? Dreams that are just really bizarre and too ridiculous to even be true?"
"…Mm, yeah," Ralph said, after a pause of apparent speculation.
"Tell me about it, big guy."
"One time I dreamed that Calhoun suddenly got bigger. Bigger than me, even."
"Pfffffft!" Vanellope suddenly began snickering uproariously. "You mean she got fat?"
"Wh—NO! I mean she got tall! Geez, kid!" Ralph exclaimed, although he could do nothing to stop her misinterpretation from bringing an image to his mind. He snorted, trying to regain composure. "She got tall! Tall, Vanellope!"
"Okay," Vanellope replied weakly, doubled over in laughter. "O-okay, tall. Yes, I ge—I get it." She took a deep breath, but let it go in another fit of guffaws.
Ralph sighed and waited patiently for her to finish.
"…O-okay. I'm good now. Continue. Hee hee." Vanellope gave one last giggle and wiped a tear from her eye, turning her whole self around on his lap to face him.
"Yeah, I dreamed she got b—taller, and she was stomping around everywhere and yelling at everyone."
"Was her voice all thundery?"
"Uh, a twenty-foot Sarge? Her voice is thundery already! You betcha."
"Where was Felix in all of this?"
Ralph grinned. "Riding on her shoulder like a parrot."
That set Vanellope off again, and it was almost half a minute before she stopped laughing.
"Okay, okay! Calm down kid! You're gonna kill yourself! Seriously, you're freaking me out," Ralph said, reaching out and patting her on the back with two thick fingers.
"I can't help it!" she shrieked, pressing her palm over her mouth. "Ha…hoo…okay, wanna hear my weird dream?"
"As long as you can breathe while you're telling it."
"So I dreamed that life was just some sort of huge musical and sometimes we all randomly burst into big song and dance numbers. Strange, huh?" Vanellope said, giving a lopsided grin and turning her palms up in a shrug.
Ralph chuckled. "Yeah. Really strange."
"And you had a solo."
"What, me? A solo?" Ralph looked over his shoulder incredulously, as if her words might have been directed toward someone else. "If you mean 'so low no one can hear it', I can believe that."
"No, no, I mean a solo! A real actual solo. You had one." Vanellope prodded his forehead with a pointer finger. "And you danced. Your dancing was totally punk rock!"
"It was what now?"
"You know, cool! Awesome sauce! Super-ultra-extreme-awesomazing! The roxorz! Epic! The bee's knees!"
"Haha. I don't really dance, kid."
"You said you don't make things and we ended up making the best racecar ever," Vanellope said, shoving her hands in her pocket and giving him a sweet smile. Ralph furrowed his brow, but couldn't help but smile too.
"Fine. Touché. But you dreamed about me dancing in a world where everyone spontaneously breaks into big musical numbers, so that's far beyond the realm of reality, squirt." Ralph flicked her ponytail with his thumb and forefinger.
"Ha, fine, Ralphie boy," Vanellope said as she laid back down, burying her face into his chest. She turned her head so the side of her face pressed against his plaid cotton shirt and brushed her fingers against his arm leisurely, as if her hand were a racecar and his arm was the track.
"You ever have scary dreams, Ralph?"
"You mean nightmares?"
"I mean scary dreams."
"Well…I think everyone does, kid."
"What kind of scary dreams do you have?"
Ralph paused for a moment, causing Vanellope to stop and look up.
"…Ralph?"
"Well…sometimes I dream about what would have happened if I hadn't been able to save you. You know, the day we met. When the cy-bugs burst outta the ground in Sugar Rush and backed you up against the entrance, and you couldn't escape."
"…You dream about that?" Vanellope's voice wavered slightly.
"Yeah, I do. It's scary stuff. I don't wanna scare you too, so I'll just stop there."
Vanellope used her hands to push herself up and meet his eyes. She looked all seriousness now.
"Well, sometimes I dream about what would've happened if I hadn't been able to save you. After you dropped into Diet Cola Mountain and made the Mentos fall, and I raced after you with Crumbelina's kart."
"Aw, kid…" Ralph gave her a small smile.
"It's scary stuff, too, Ralph. I don't know what I'd do without you. You were my first real friend, ya know that?" Her hazel eyes darkened slightly, highlighting the anxiousness in her voice.
"You were my first real friend too, half-pint," Ralph told her, lifting her chin with a finger. Vanellope smiled a bit, playing with the pleats of her skirt.
Finally she put her head back down on his chest. "Well, anyway. Dreams are interesting."
"Yeah, but you know the best thing about dreams?"
"What?" Vanellope asked, raising her head slightly.
"They aren't real." Ralph put a hefty hand over her back like a blanket. "And you don't have to worry about what could've happened if I wasn't there for you, or if you weren't there for me."
"Heh." Vanellope snuggled up against him. "Or worry about twenty-foot tall Sergeant Calhouns stomping around."
"Or about lost puppies."
"Or really bad cakes."
"Or being naked in public."
Vanellope giggled, closing her eyes. "Hehe. G'night, Ralph."
Ralph smiled and leaned back.
"Sweet dreams."