Fly

"V-vriska… I-I'm not rea-really so sure about this…"

"Oh, Tavros, have I ever done anything to hurt you?"

"W-well… actually… y-yeah. You have."

Vriska halted in pushing his four-wheeled device down a beaten path, her fists clenching slightly on its handles. Tavros felt the tension, and he knew he should turn around to be sure but he was too frightened to consider it for too long. It didn't matter, because it was brief moments later that Vriska was pushing him again.

"That's why I'm going to fix all that this time. I'll even give you some of my luck, so you know nothing'll go wrong."

Tavros remained quiet, and Vriska could tell he was still unconvinced. It didn't matter, she told herself; in a few moments her actions would convince him. So she continued pushing him down the dirty road, which was quiet except for the sound of his wheels running over the gravel. She wanted to fill the air with conversation, but something in her that she usually didn't listen to told her more of her voice was the last thing the situation needed. And, since she was trying out a whole new thing today, it couldn't hurt to listen.

The moon was a sliver in the sky, and it's light barely illuminated the path, but it was enough for them to see the old playground that was coming into sight. Vriska saw Tavros' hands tighten on the armrests of his wheels, but she bit her lip and kept pushing. He was going to like this, she told herself. He was going to like this, and he would forgive her and maybe her conscience would finally forgive her too.

"Here we are," she sang softly, wheeling him up to the outdated equipment. "Just, trust me."

Tavros' fingers started to tap on the armrests, but otherwise he didn't say a word. Vriska rolled him up to the swingset, to the one seat that was still completely intact. There was a little bit of rusting on the chains, so Vriska sat herself upon it first. She swang back and forth, testing it out. When it passed inspection, she stood again.

"Arms up, Tavros."

He was looking at her, eyes wide in disbelief, and probably also distrust. Vriska tried to keep her expression schooled, so that it was earnest and sincere. Soon Tavros was reluctantly prying his arms off his device, and working to unfasten himself. Vriska eased his body into her arms, a hand on his back and the other beneath his useless knees. She almost marveled at how light he was, but then, his legs were so thin and wiry It probably evened out his worked upper-body.

Vriska set Tavros down on the swing.

"Hold on tight, Pupa."

"V-vriska, please, I'm still not… re-really sure about this…"

"Hold tight," she said again, and Tavros sighed. His hand gripped onto the metal chains so tightly, she could clearly make out his knuckles, pale gray. Rolling her eyes, because she couldn't hold it back, she gripped the seat of the swing and gave it a gentle nudge.

Tavros squealed a little, and tightened his grip, something Vriska wasn't even sure was possible. She continued to push him nonetheless, and as he got higher, he seemed to relax more and more.

Vriska took a step back when Tavros was coming dangerously close to the bar. When she looked up, she was almost surprised to see a smile gracing his face, as the wind mussed his Mohawk.

She smiled, too. 'Fly, Pupa Pan, fly.'

end