Work Text:
Depollute me, pretty baby
“Grace, come on. Let’s get you home.” Steph sets a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. But she just flinches away.
“Don’t touch me!” she yelps out, storming away from the contact, and off of the football field.
“Grace!” Steph calls out, split between running after her and staying with Pete.
“Steph.” his hand on her shoulder forces her to stay. “Give her time, okay?” Steph nods.
“Give her time.”
Even if it’s for a wound that time cannot touch.
Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream
The world can move onwards.
That’s the problem when you solve an issue that no one really saw.
When you go through something that you can never really talk about.
The world will keep moving, even when you’re begging for it to stay still.
And you can do nothing but try to keep up appearances.
Oh, dilute me, gentle angel
Which is exactly what Grace does, for a week.
But by the second one, she’s changed.
For the first week, she came in her normal outfits, dressed up, as she always had been.
By the second, she came first in sweatpants instead of jeans. Then sweater instead of sweater vest, despite the oncoming heat. By Wednesday, she lost the collared shirt beneath it.
By Thursday, the sweater had become a sweatshirt.
By Friday, a hoodie.
And no one could miss the nervous fidgeting, the pause around corners, the looking behind herself at least every few minutes.
At least, Steph couldn’t miss it, and neither could Pete.
Everyone else seems to.
Water down what I call being grateful
Steph lays, tucked under Pete’s arm. Comfortable at last, in a house that only recently started feeling like home again.
A panicked knock at the door sends her flying out from underneath it.
“Who is it?” Pete asks, Steph quickly pulling out her phone to check the doorbell camera.
“Grace.” and she dashes to it.
Steph opens the door to a damp Grace, looking behind her shoulder, shaking more than the cold and rain might justify. Grace’s head flicks, panicked, back to the door, and Steph just opens her arms.
“I’m here, Grace. I’m here.”
Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me
It took Grace a while to relax. And by the time she did, it was into the discomforting hands of sleep, and whatever dreams could join her there.
But it was also in the warm embrace of Pete and Steph.
And that seemed to keep them away.
When she leaves after several hours, the first hours of decent sleep in two weeks, she gets several checks that she wants to walk home and not get a ride, two squeezed hugs.
And two kisses to the part of her hair.
Two kisses that thankfully keep the nightmares away that night as well.
Not to take me home
Grace expects things to change faster than she’s ready.
But the next day, Steph greets her with a quick hug, and Pete with a smile and a nod.
No demands. No insistence.
Her heart flutters.
It was simple, it was sweetness
“Grace, wanna join us for lunch?” Steph asks. Grace heavily breathes in the obligation that was surely being placed upon her.
Hopefully, it’ll be a lighter one than the last.
“Yeah, I’d be happy to.” she lies through her nervousness, following the happy couple through the cafeteria.
“Are you sleeping alright?” Pete asks. Her eyes pick up from the table, confused.
“I’ve… Slept better.” she’d been sleeping worse. But last night was good, for the first time since-
She suppresses a shudder, even underneath her sweatpants and hoodie.
Grace’s eyes go back up to their faces.
She clearly didn’t suppress it enough.
It was good to know
“Just… If you need anything, to hang out, or a shoulder to cry on. Even a couch to nap on and someone to watch over you. We’re here. Just a text or a phone call away, you know?” Steph hands over a sticky note, two phone numbers, and two addresses written on it.
Grace just takes it, unsure if she could ever bring herself to use them.
And the conversation switches to school.
And staying up that night, staring at the shadows caused by her nightlight, waiting for her imagination to pop out of them, to further take her ability to sleep, Grace decides that maybe.
Just maybe, she can.
You look perfect, you look different
“Gracie, you need to stop wearing those! It’s not proper!” her mother insists again.
It wasn’t like they were going anywhere. It was Saturday, they weren’t even going to church. Grace was only downstairs to try to choke down the food that she knew tasted delicious, but felt disgusting.
“Mom-”
“Gracie, listen to Mother! I understand that you miss your friends, and the losses we’ve had are great, but that’s no excuse to dress like the homeless man downtown!” her father insists, setting a hand on her shoulder. A hand that she flinches away.
It wasn’t her father’s in that moment. It wasn’t warm, living, breathing. It was his .
Cold.
Dead.
Haunting.
She’s lost the bit of appetite she’d forced herself to have.
“I’m not really hungry anymore. Sorry.” she apologizes to the floor.
“Go to your room Gracie. And take a granola bar with you. We can reheat up food when you’re feeling hungry later.” Grace nods, taking one that wouldn’t be touched. Knowing that ‘when’ was an if.
She passes picture after picture of herself from years past on the stairs.
Oh, the things she’d do to be that smiling, innocent little girl again.
The things she’d do to be anything.
Anything that wasn’t…
Her .
I don’t wonder about your indifference
-Hey Steph. It’s Grace-
-oh hey grace wats up- Grace’s wish to be anyone else.
Because maybe, if she was anyone else. Anyone at all, as long as it wasn’t her, she’d never have been in that position.
She would have never been forced to-
“Grace, I’m coming over, what’s your address?” Grace hadn’t meant to call.
She should hang up.
This was her own fault anyways.
But her address falls out of her mouth in a muttered cry, her body curled around her phone like it’s a lifeline.
Which in her dark room, underneath her comforter that’s providing none, it might as well be.
If I said you could never touch me
“Hey Grace. Can I come in?” Grace isn’t sure how Steph got into her house in the first place.
But she nods nonetheless.
“Grace?” right, nods do not go through doors.
“Yeah.” her voice breaks in the middle of the word. The door creaks open, and then shut.
“Hey.” Steph’s face peeks through the shaking blanket. Concerned, worried. “Can I touch you?”
Finally, her shakes ‘no’ can be seen.
“That’s okay.” her smile makes it so. “I’m gonna get you an ice cube and a towel, so your bed doesn’t get wet. It’ll help.” she trusts her.
And Grace feels right to, feeling the pressure on her chest release as the ice melts in her hand.
“There you are.” Steph’s smile releases it a bit further. “I’m gonna wipe up your hand, using the towel, so you can take a nap. Is that okay?” she can barely find it, but she just manages to nod. The towel blocks any warmth, not allowing her to mistake it for death-like cold.
“Okay, I’m gonna head home. Send me a text if you need me again.” Steph pats the mattress, not Grace, and takes the damp towel with her.
Calm sleep overtakes her.
And nightmares don’t.
You’d come over and say I looked lovely
Grace wears a green flannel under a hoodie to school. Unnoticed by all but two.
“Hey Grace.” Pete greets with a toothy smile. Receiving a small, almost unnoticeable smile in return.
“Hey.” the word is almost lost in the noise of the hallway. He opens his arms, and doesn’t even have time to ask if she wants one before she accepts.
“You look well rested!” Steph comments, leaning against the lockers.
“Thanks.” and her words can almost only be heard through the rumble against Pete’s chest. But she slowly pulls away, and quickly places herself into the arms of Steph, embracing the warmth that she’d so desperately needed, yet so desperately despised two days ago.
Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me
Grace finds herself at the two’s side, unwilling to part.
Finds herself sleeping tucked into their shoulders and necks rather than in pillows and blankets.
Wanting, almost needing, to know each and every crevice.
She tucks herself underneath Pete’s shoulder, waking up from a nap. Staring up as he watches tv.
Appreciating the curve of his jaw, and the stubble that adorns it.
The crook of his nose.
The unbalanced sit of his glasses.
Him.
A hum vibrates from her chest, getting his attention. His eyes only flick, latching onto hers, and despite her odd angle, she can see the soft smile erupt onto his face.
His eyes go back to the tv, and Grace melts into his warmth even more.
She’s an ice cube in his hand.
Not to make me cry
“Hey Pete?” he hums an acknowledgement, turning his face towards her. Was she seriously about to do this?
Risk her refuge?
Pete’s eyes are patiently expectant, and she can feel Steph’s thigh warm against her own, even through Steph’s jeans and her own sweatpants.
“C-can I kiss you on the cheek?” his eyes flick to where she knows Steph’s face sits.
“Yeah.” his smile is bright. It warms her almost as much as their body heats do.
She breathes in heavily, her dare turning well.
She finds the bravery, more intense than what was needed to ask, and presses the lightest touch to his cheek.
She can still somehow feel his smile glow brighter with it.
Grace melts back into his side.
It was simple, you are sweetness
“Can I kiss you?” no, please no. What if his lips on hers turn to his ? She can’t handle this being- “r hand?”
“Yeah.” she can feel her face go pink, the heat radiating into his side. Their fingers become intertwined, and carefully lifted. A kiss, no longer than the one upon his cheek, placed on the top of her hand.
Warm.
Bright and warm.
“Can I?” Steph asks, opening her hand, hovering over the top of Grace’s lap. Grace just smiles, meeting it with her free one.
Their hands quickly copy Pete’s and Grace’s, being lifted up to Steph’s lips.
Coming back with the stain of lipstick that Grace hopes will never come off.
Let’s just sit a while
Steph pushes her thigh a little more into Grace’s. It’s calm and quiet.
Touches that had only ever been storms before, now becoming a shining sun.
As Grace turns her attention back to the tv with a squeeze of both of her hands, she knows that there’ll be no clouds.
Depollute me, gentle angel
Slowly, Grace warms to it.
She gets used to the touches, and the holds, that she wishes were both more platonic, and something more.
She’s not wearing only sweatpants and hoodies, though her sweater vest is often traded for a sweater or flannel a size or two too big.
She still avoids baths, now being fond of showers, allowing the water to run the day’s sweat and worries away.
And I’ll feel the sickness less and less
Not that it had ever been them, not since the first day, but touches are rarely replaced with his . Corners and shadows no longer danger zones.
She no longer feels death grip upon her hips, pressing upon her lips.
She only feels their warmth.
“What are we?” she’s spending the day after Christmas with them, the day and eve being spent with her family.
Though she wanted to be here.
Steph looks up from her half-painted nails, and Pete from his newest rubik’s cube.
“What do you want us to be?” she replies.
“Partners.” it falls from her mouth, but not as a cry. A thought spoken too soon, without articulation.
“I’d be happy to be.” Pete replies, a genuine, slightly lopsided smile on his face. One that Grace had loved for months.
Not that she’d admit that outloud.
“I’d love to be your girlfriend.” Steph smiles. Grace would never be able to decide if she looked more beautiful with or without makeup.
Grace just nods, a smile blooming on her face.
Partners. Girlfriend. Boyfriend.
Warmth settles in her chest. Nothing had ever felt so correct to her.
Come and kiss me, pretty baby
“Can I kiss you?” she asks Steph, on New Year’s Eve.
Despite the correctness in her heart, part of her feared for the cold to stab back in.
She’s not sure she could handle it if it did.
“Of course you can.” Steph agrees, taking a step closer to her in the tight Spankoffski kitchen. But not making a move. Leaving the choice to Grace.
Grace had never been more in love with a person before.
She dares to close the gap, feeling Steph’s warmth through her clothes. A hand placed on Steph’s cheek.
“Is this okay?” a hovering hand over Grace’s hip. A nod, and a spread of warmth. Two lips pressed together.
Warm.
Steph’s smile as Grace pulls away is the sun through the clouds.
“Pete?” she asks as Steph goes to get more popcorn. He hums an acknowledgement, turning towards her. “Can I kiss you?”
“Anytime.” he assures. Grace lifts herself up from where she’s melted onto his side, and presses her lips to his.
“Anytime?” she asks, hearing Steph walk back in, as she breathes in Pete’s air.
“Anytime.” he assures.
“Same goes for me, by the way.” Steph adds.
“I-It’s okay if I ask-?” Grace cuts herself off. But her question still gets answered.
“We’d ask until the end of time, if it makes you comfortable.” Pete mutters, quiet yet assuring.
“And… if I never want…” she swallows hard. “More?”
“Grace.” Steph’s hand finds hers with a squeeze. “Whatever you want to give us, we’ll be happy to have.”
Pete’s hand finds her other.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with. You are more than enough.” he squeezes her hand.
Like we’ll never have sex
And the cold will never touch her again.