A/N: Riff Raff has an awfully dark look on his face on the line "with blond hair and a tan" in RHPS. My take on the reason behind that look.


She knew something was wrong the moment he opened the door to his room, spilling a beam of light from the hallway onto her figure as she sat on the edge of his bed, waiting. The room itself was mostly in shadow, and the light coming from behind him made him no more than a silhouette in the doorframe. Still, she knew something was wrong; it was an uneasy feeling stirring in her stomach. Frank had done something to him.

He just stood there in the doorway, and she rose instinctively to her feet, but went no further. He was the one in charge as far as their relationship was concerned. He made the decisions, he knew what to do. If he was in a temper, she didn't dare approach him. She merely stood there in the light, watching his shadow, trying to put her finger on just what was different about him.

His stance wavered unsteadily, and she bit her lip; he was in pain. She waited, frowning, as he slowly closed the door behind him, shutting them both in darkness. There was a pause, then he flipped the lightswitch to 'on'.

Unable to stop herself, she gasped in shocked horror, one hand flying to cover her mouth. The light shone on the top of her brother's head, the skin of which was red and bald. There was total silence in the room for several seconds; he didn't look at her, keeping his focus a few feet ahead of him on the ground.

"Vhat has he done to you?" she asked, her voice suddenly defeaning in the tense atmosphere. There was no reply, and she finally moved from her spot by the bed, stocking feet padding on the bare floor. She stopped when she was inches from his face, trying to find an answer in his cold blue eyes.

"He wanted the creature to be blond." The reply finally came, simple and devoid of emotion. He wasn't raging, nor was he defeated. No, he was never defeated. He just wore that same expression of cool indifference, thinly masking the pain he felt. Ripped out by the roots, more than half of his hair was missing; it had been nearly as thick as his sister's, although limp and straight rather than frizzy.

She took a step back, gazing at him with an expression of anguish. Both of them knew there was nothing to be done about the situation...yet. But he had been working on a plan, and she trusted him completely. After all, he was her big brother. She knew he would make everything right in due time.

Trying to ease her worries and erase the concern on her face, he offered her a twitch of his mouth that almost resembled a smile, for him, and placed his hands out in front of him, palms down. She solemnly copied the action, and they raised their fingers to the ceiling, palm to palm, forearm to forearm. He reached behind him to turn out the light, then silently took her hand and led her to bed, where they curled up to sleep safely in one another's arms.

He would never tell her that Frank had really wanted to create a redhead.