Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun kissed his finger for just a moment before it began to sizzle and melt, revealing the stark white bone underneath. Yet all he did was groan and pull himself back into the shadows of his home. 

“Hmm,” he huffed as he stared at his healing finger. It wasn’t a reflex of pain, (he had long since gotten used to the pain over dozens of tests.) It was more so…no, he couldn’t be annoyed. It was foolish to expect change so flippantly, especially since he was sadly quite weak. 

“Kars?” 

Oh, that beautiful voice: deep and smooth like running a hand through clotting blood. How it soothed his aching mind. 

“You’re up early,” he replied, turning his back against the sun and illuminating his god-like figure. Yes, he was the one who turned his back against that which opposed him.

“It wasn’t my decision, sadly.” Esidisi chuckled and ran a finger on the tiny baby’s face, “this little one needed to be fed.” 

“My goodness,” Kars smiled and cupped the baby’s head, gazing into his lover’s cerulean eyes. “I wonder where she gets her hunger from,” he gave a teasing smirk, which earned him a low chuckle.

“She’s a runt, give her a break.” 

Kars closed his eyes and sighed gently. If only his mother were alive now, the things she’d say to him after he gave birth to a hornless runt, ruining her two brilliantly healthy brothers. It was unlike the Pillarmen race to have children at all, and when they did, they were apt in making sure that every child was more perfect than the last. And little █████████, with her pale, thin body that wasn’t developing as well as the other two, would be far from meeting expectations. 

Esidisi obviously noticed Kars’ discomfort and thought that some skin to skin bonding would ease his nerves. (It always did, despite Kars’ grumbling about the baby’s incessant wiggling)

“Here, I think she’s sniffed you out.” Esidisi chuckled as a wide eyed Kars took the little girl in his arms. Almost immediately, her little button nose started to twitch akin to a rabbit as she moved to recognize this new person holding her as her mother. 

“Hello you, yes it’s still me. Do you recognize your mother? You haven’t opened your eyes yet, so I don’t entirely trust that you do.” Esidisi admired Kars’ unknowingly bright smile as he cooed at the girl. God, he was just adorable with the children. But he didn’t dare bring it up, lest he cease his softness out of pride. 

Like the rest of their species, Pillarmen babies were also far more advanced than a regular human infant. Their one evolutionary disadvantage, which Kars also yearned to fix, was their sensitive eyes. They were not born accustomed to darkness or light, so for the first few weeks of their lives. Pillarbabies kept their eyes shut, relying mostly on their sense of smell. 

The other two, █████ ███ ███████ , had already opened their eyes and had even begun to crawl slightly. But the little runt was still blindly wiggling and sniffing, helpless to anyone or anything that might hurt her. (████ had frequent nightmares about █████████ being caught and taken away by a big bird.)

The two lovers watched their only daughter sniff out her surroundings, her head slightly turning back and forth between mother (“Mother???”) and-

“She’s figuring it out, what a smart little one.” A soft chuckle emitted from ███████

“Come on now █████████, open your eyes so we may see where they take after most.” ████ grinned with vigorous joy only found in a mother’s pride for his daughter.

“She’ll take after you anyways, she’s got your hair (“my hair? My hair is just fine..”)”

“I think purple (blonde??) would pair well with your blue eyes”

“Like the night sky above us..” 

The two men smiled at each other, bathing in the other’s gaze for what seemed like forever. And maybe they would have done it forever, had the baby girl not began to coo and whimper.

“What? What is it?” ████ cooed and readjusted his girl, “must you have all of our attention all the time?” He teased and reached down to boop the girl’s nose, making her scrunch her face and emit a tiny sneeze. 

“Oh…” ████’s red eyes widened and he gestured his lover to his side, to which ███████ was more than happy to rush over. 

“She’s-she’s doing it..she’s opening her eyes!” He (mama…) exclaimed, his mouth opening into a wide grin. 

“Oh! Oh █████████, you can do it! Open your eyes! Come on!” 

██████████████████████

██████████████████████████████████████

███████████████████████████████████████████

“-pen your eyes little one, we’re so proud of you!”

……………….
………”-iss DuBois? She’s-“…………….

“Mama?” 

█████████████████████

“There you go, you’ve- ██████████████████’

“███████ don’t rush- ██████ ███████”

“███████████████████████████”

“██████████████████████████████████████”

██████████████████

███████████████ma?” 

“Mama?”

███████████████

█████████████████████

██████

███

█

“Open your eyes, Miss DuBois.”

Annie squinted as her eyes adjusted to the bright, afternoon sun peering through her doctor’s window. A terrible ache started to bloom behind her eyes, and her rubbing them was promptly stopped by her father’s swatting hands.

“Did you have the dream again?”

“…I think so.” The sound of her own voice somehow spooked the young girl. As if she hadn’t been speaking mere minutes ago.

“Right, so we know it can be triggered-“

“It started to…to go away. Like it was…being erased by something.” 

“That’s good, very good. So your new medication is working after all.” 

Annie watched as her psychiatrist began to scratch out what must’ve been a new prescription. She looked pleadingly at her father’s face, although her fears were only confirmed as he showed to be deep in thought. She didn’t like his thinking face. It usually meant that she had done something wrong. 

“Father?” She squeaked, her carefully manicured fingernails wrapped around the wooden armrest. 

“I’m afraid she’s on too much medication.” 

Oh. So she had done something really wrong.

“No. No please!” 

It was not bravery that caused Annie to grab her father’s wrist, albeit gently. It was foolishness. A desperate show of gluttony. 

“Father, please don’t take them away!” 

Oh, here comes the tears.

“Annie, you almost drowned for heaven’s sake! I can’t in good conscious keep you drugged up just for nostalgia’s sake.”

“Please please please…” 

Ugh, she was sobbing now, holding onto his coat and pressing her face into his chest. 

“Don’t- I’ll- I won’t do it- any- anymore.” 

Arthur DuBois would be a cruel man if he didn’t feel the least bit sorry for his daughter. The poor thing was quivering like a damn lost puppy in the rain! Although he did wish she didn’t cry on his shirt, it was nice and freshly dry cleaned. And Annie always wore so much makeup. 

He quietly accepted a handkerchief from the psychiatrist , giving a mouthed “thank you” in return. 

“Come now dear Annie, you’re much too beautiful to cry.” He lifted her head oh so gently and wiped her redded eyes. 

“…Daddy.” She muttered and sniffled, “don’t…don’t take them from me. I…I only slipped and hit my head…” 

“…” 

The two men looked at each other, and with a subtle nod, the psychiatrist ripped the paper and handed it to Arthur. 

“…I could never hurt you like that, my Annie.” Arthur relished in the tearful grin his daughter gave before she dove back into him. 

“Thank you! Thank you daddy!” She squealed and practically hopped with delight, much like when she was a child. 

“Oh Annie~” 

She was annoying, but god she was cute. 

“No more dreams?” He asked, his voice growing a few octaves to soothe his baby girl. 

“Hehe~ No more dreams~” 

And with that, Annie spun on her heels and ran out the door, right past the receptionist and out into the smoggy New York City air. 

“My goodness, she’s quite the whirlwind.” The two men shared a chuckle over their delightful little Annie. 

“Oh to have the spirit of a 16 year old girl.” 

 Arthur smiled and looked out the window to spot his daughter leaning impatiently against the front of his car.

“I think the world would be a better place if more people were like our Annie.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about bringing her home?”
“Lizzy-“
“Don’t.”
“Elizabeth, you have nothing to worry about. The doc’s fixed her on some new meds, she’s talked it all out with the psychologist. And we’ve made sure it won’t happen again.”

He heard her grip tightening, a cute little nervous habit. 

“You do trust me, don’t you, Lizzy?” 
“…She said she was gonna kill us all, Arthur. It’s not a matter of trusting your word, it’s a matter of safety.” 
“So that’s a no.” 
“Arthur, please, Holly hasn’t slept a wink, and Joseph’s just about ready to kill her himself.” 
“Tell them I’ve got a handle on her. She’ll sleep in the attic if-“
“NO-no…she can’t go up there.”

Elizabeth gazed up at the still boarded-up attic, the wood groaned at her, begging to break. Begging to expose her.

“Jesus- well, she’s coming home anyway. Just don’t spring stuff on her and she’ll be fine.” 
“I thought she’d be happy-“
“Well, you were wrong.” 

Elizabeth loved Arthur DuBois, really, she did. He was remarkably wise, a grey feathered owl that guided her through the night. And he always knew exactly what to say; and when to say it. 

“You make me feel young, Lizzy.”

Lizzy.

Even George hadn’t called her Lizzy. He was much too formal, too strict and uptight. Almost too much of a gentleman for the free spirit that she was.

But Arthur, oh Arthur. He let her drive his car down Sunset Boulevard once, the day after their engagement. It was one of those cars without the hood; a novel and downright brilliant idea for the California life. She had wrapped her fingers around that hot, slim steering wheel and practically peeled down the street. The wind had whipped her red chiffon headscarf right off her head and cast it into the street, letting some poor sucker dive for its airy fortune. But that was small in comparison to the way he smiled at her. When he was actually smiling, his smile reached his eyes, and his smile lines were prominent and true. How lucky she was when he smiled at her like that. And how lucky she’d be once she saw that smile as she walked down the aisle. 

He was plenty stable, too; he was in great shape for his age, handsome, and consistently kind to her and her children. And he stayed out of danger, bodyguards lined his every step, and vampires aren’t going to kill him and leave her alone. That’s the most important part. 

“I’ve prepared her bedroom, um…it’s sort of plain-looking-.”
“She can decorate it herself, maybe it can be her hobby.” 
“Y-yeah…” 

That made him chuckle a little. As if poor Annie had any time for new hobbies. She had hardly perfected ballet, for Christ’s sakes. Plus there’s a show to finish, people to meet, kiss and touch. 

“…That’ll be it then, I think.” She couldn’t remember the last time she was this meek. If she had ever been. That was another thing she loved about Arthur. He exposed things she never knew about herself, emotions she thought she would never feel again after losing George. Meekness, melancholy, madness, happiness, wonder…

“Right, I’ll see you.” 
“See you..” 

The phone chirps as it’s clicked back into place, and Arthur looks back at his young daughter, whose feet are perched up on the dashboard of his car as she’s nose-deep in a book she found. 
“Careful what you read, Annie.” He says as he revs the engine, “Books give you thoughts, and thoughts are how you got here.” 
“I told you, I’m not having those thoughts anymore,” Annie smiled down, not meeting his eye. 
“The new meds work fine?” 
“I think they’re messing with my other medicine. They make me sleepy when I’m supposed to be awake.” 
“Yes, well, just take those sometimes, then, right? Just when you feel you’re about to spiral.” 
“Is that what that was?” 

He almost stops the car right then and there. What a loaded question, he thought as he swallowed a thick lump of anxiety that was quickly replaced with anger. Apparently, Annie’s feeling quite bold today, maybe that’s a side effect of the new drug.

“Yes. Annie. That’s what that was. You were spiralling. Did they teach you how to recognize when you’re about to spiral?” 
“Mmm…” She pauses and finally smiles at him, trying to trick him into believing that spiralling is something she’d never do. 

“I guess it starts when I think of something bad, like you getting married.” 
“That’s not- …Yes, go on.” He speaks methodically, tiptoeing in a mine field that was his teenage daughter.
“Then I start to make up bad stuff, like you leaving me, or…just- being left alone I guess.” 
“Yes, good. Alright, you don’t have to go further-“
“Then I think of Mama again.” 

For fuck’s sake. 

When he first picked Little Orphan Annie off the streets, he had never imagined that her biological parents would have ever been an issue. Her father was apparently blown to bits in the war, and her mother must’ve been some drug addict prostitute who clearly didn’t know what a blessing she had given birth to. Annie just had a way of lighting up people’s world, either through her adorable, youthful appearance. Or the insane potential that she possessed. 
He had gotten her on Broadway as soon as her accent went away. Her singing wasn’t quite as good as it is now, but she had picked up quickly enough that people could simply awww at her broken notes and flimsy footwork. But god, once she learned, once she got her footing, there was no stopping her. Every man, woman and child wanted to be like her, the sweet angel she was. And they should, he thought. Doubting Annie’s talent would be like doubting the second coming of Christ!

But apparently, some angels have the ability to die if their whore mothers come back into the picture and “sleep” in the attic of his luxurious new penthouse.

“…We aren’t thinking of mommy anymore, right, Annie?” 
“Nope.” She popped her “p” with a cheeky grin. “No more mommy! I’m a big girl now, aren’t I?” 
“Not yet, just when I say so, okay?” 
“Okay!”

The Joestar penthouse was one of many projects that Joseph finished. It wasn’t anything too different from the other penthouses in the Upper West Side. But Joseph said it had a lot of “homely tones.” So he saw it best that his family used it whenever they were in New York, which was often enough to warrant getting a penthouse there.

Annie’s room was the one next to Holly’s, perhaps in a bold attempt to get step-aunt and niece to act like the sisters they really should be. They were similar in age, 16 and 14, and they’d be attending the same school come fall, so a simple bond was all their parents could hope for. Especially after what they called the “Annie incident.”

“It’s simple,” Annie floated into her new bedroom, the “Annie incident” turned into a ghost that haunted these fresh walls. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, her hand full of her scarf, waiting for the bomb to go off. 

“Yes, well, I doubt you’ll be in it very much,” Elizabeth winced at her own words, realizing that it wasn’t the words themselves that tripped the bomb, but rather who was speaking them. Annie hummed to herself, feeling how her weight pressed into her new mattress. 
“True enough, plus there’s nothing wrong with simplicity. It invites room for exploration.” 
“Hah…I suppose so,” was all Elizabeth could say. She could feel all the confidence and strength she had built up throughout her life being robbed by this 16-year-old nightmare. Of course, Annie had noticed her step-mother’s nerves; she wasn’t dumb. But since it was her fault, as people’s emotions usually were, she saw it best to try and remedy the room. To make everything okay again. 

“I’m very sorry for how I acted,” Annie lowered her head, and curtsied towards Elizabeth, (she found that people liked being treated like royalty.) “I was not in my right mind, and I’d like to make things right if we are to become family.” 
Although her movements seemed to aid a plastic performance, Elizabeth appreciated Annie’s effort to apologize. She imagined that Arthur’s efforts in teaching her manners would certainly keep her out of trouble in her future. A girl like her needed to at least be proper if she were to be harbouring a secret hysteria.
“Thank you, I think I better understand how you felt after considering it more. This is a big adjustment for all of us,” -Joseph hadn’t been too keen on her getting married either- “but I’ll try to make the transition as comfortable as possible.” 
The two women exchanged gentle smiles, Annie dutifully wrapping her arms around Elizabeth’s skinny waist. 

“I can’t believe that thing is still up there!” Arthur roared at Joseph, who merely sat on his plush love seat, smirking as if things were funny. 
“She’s not going to find out, plus who cares if she does. She doesn’t need her birth mother anymore. You’ve made sure of that.” 
“That thing is not a mother,” A huff escaped Arthur’s tempered lips. “A mother is a gentle creature, kind, loving, obedient. That thing just sits there and torments us.” 
“Careful, he might hear you, he’s an all-powerful being, you know,” Joseph chuckled, recalling his battles with a renewed fondness. “He was quite the adversary, he and his family. If I could go back…” 
Arthur took Joseph’s pause as a lucky opportunity to bash the attic’s hatch with the handle of a broom. As if the perfectly crafted lifeform was just a mere stray cat making babies in the attic. 
“Ohh, the man pokes through the lion’s cage, I see.” 

Joseph was about 16 years too old to be acting so cocky. But old habits die hard when your future stepfather is a clown, bought by mommy to amuse him.

“I’ll kill it,” the fatter man growled, his mustache curling in on itself. “I’ll wrap my hands around its neck-“ 
“Go ahead then, I’m sure he’s itching for a fight after so long.” Joseph tutted to himself and spread his legs like a peacock spreading its wings. 
Arthur could feel his blood slow its pace, his face growing almost a burgundy-red. 
“If luck is on your side, you may just have a chance to run away. That’s what I’d do anyway, it really is an underrated tactic-“
He felt no fear as Arthur lifted him by the collar. 
“Listen. I don’t want Annie knowing ANYTHING about that attic. She’s America’s brightest star, and I don’t need you or any perfect- whatever ruining her.” 
Joseph just frowned, disappointed that Arthur didn’t even throw a punch. He was itching for a fight and words just weren’t as fun. 
“Riiight…she had a totally normal breakdown because of the attic. Definitely nooottt anything you’ve done.” 
Ugh. 
“I haven’t done anything, and if you accuse me of-“
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I accused you of anything, not anything specific anyway.” 
“I-“ 

The pause was simply deafening, aside from the grandfather clock’s patient, all-mighty tick. 

“Mr DuBois, if you have nothing to hide, then my word means nothing.” A lie slipped from Joseph’s lips. Arthur loosened his grip on the boy, letting him drop down on his feet. 
“Just- she can’t know, okay? It would destroy her, knowing that her mother is being kept from her.” 
“She needs him,” Joseph narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. “Andromeda needs her mother-“
“Then you shouldn’t have taken her away from him, right?” A smirk, one of a winner, came across Arthur’s face. “Don’t forget, this is your fault, Joseph. You and your mother.” 

Joseph sank into himself, giving a small “tch.” 

“If anything, you should be happy I came around. I’ve given her everything she needs and brought her closer to her mother.” 
“Let’s just-“ Joseph let out a sigh of defeat. All the penthouses in the world couldn’t make up for his mistake. God, could he even call it a mistake? A mistake is knocking over your mom’s vase, not continuing to keep someone in your attic, confined to a wheelchair, from the needles in his brain. It wasn’t giving scientists the power to electrocute him for their own desires. What he did was calculated, malicious acts of cruelty masked as justice. Worse yet, this son of a bitch knew about it and dangled his childish antics above his head. 
“We wouldn’t want people to know that you worked with the Nazis, right? That you were the one who kept poor Annie an orphan?” He spoke of cruelty with a smile on his face, Joseph’s actions did benefit him greatly after all. 
“Let’s just forget this silly argument. That thing stays in the attic- quietly, and Annie can go unbothered.” 
The grandfather clock chimed on the hour, giving a special jingle just for noon. 
“Fine.” 
“Good. I’ll see you at dinner,” Arthur plopped a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, “son,” and left the man to sulk. 

To say Annie’s room was plain was simply underestimating the sheer emptiness of it. The cold, freshly conditioned room had these gray walls that swallowed her whole. And the stench of fresh paint threatened to choke her if she had dared to open her mouth. She frowned, examining every piece of furniture. Like always, Daddy had gotten her the most expensive, most chic furniture he could find. But she hesitated to say that it suited her personally. That’s what she liked about her old room; it was filled with all the things she had brought with her from her childhood. And its furniture wasn’t new, it had been stained and covered with childhood memories and memories from way before she was even born. Her rug, especially; it had a permanent fray that she had always stomped on with all her weight, hoping it would flatten. Her duvet cover had a stain in the shape of France and was dyed a strange brown colour. 

Still, she didn’t dare complain. It was pretty enough, with three large windows set in a line, giving her a beautiful view of New York. They could even be opened, if she so desired fresh air and the potential for birds to come flying in. Plus she had her own bathroom, tailored perfectly to suit her vast make-up collection. 

She ran her fingers across the gray paint, it was obviously meant to be a sort of stand-in colour until she came back. Still, she didn’t like how it reminded her of the asylum, with it’s bright white walls that were often victims of people who liked to pick at things. She would paint these walls as soon as she could, after all, she was never to return to the asylum. And her new room ought to reflect that. It should reflect change, a new family, and the bright future ahead of-

Crash! 

The middle window erupted with shards and slivers of glass flying in, spreading out on the floor and nicking the fabric of the new armchair. Annie screamed and covered her face, images of a masked intruder bursting into her mind. But her fear was quickly replaced with rage as she saw a brick laying on her hardwood floors, and the sound of laughter erupting from the now forcefully opened window. 

“You…” She rushed to open the broken window, staring down at what looked like a group of boys laughing to themselves. Laughing…about her. 

One boy in particular stood out to her, particularly because he had stopped laughing just as she came into view. This boy, she decided, was the brick-thrower. The dirty culprit. (The other boys were cheering him on as well, which definitely didn’t help his case.)

“You filthy cad! Do you have nothing better to do than to bother me?!” She erupted into a shrill scream, which quickly became the new subject of the boys' mockery. The culprit even formed a slight smirk on his face.

Before the boy could say anything, Annie was already rushing to the broom closet and pulling out a pail of water, thankfully still full. 

The other boys had started talking, but their words didn’t matter to Annie. All that mattered was revenge.

She flung the bucket’s water right from the broken window and watched as it cascaded onto the dirty brick-throwing culprit. The culprit gasped and sputtered, his hands trying to cover his now-wet, sopping hair and the clear dig at his pride. The other boys, who must’ve been his friends, now directed their laughter towards him, chiding and playfully pushing the boy along. But not before he looked at Annie, who had stolen the smirk off his face.

“You dirty BITCH! I’m gonna catch freakin’ pneumonia ‘cause of you!” The boy re-flipped back his wet hair.
“I hope it kills you!” Annie chided back and slammed the window shut, breaking it just a little more. 

“A bitch…he called me a bitch!” Annie seethed as she chucked the bucket aside, making it clang against the gray paint. 
“How dare he…” She muttered as she gathered the bucket, sweeping up the broken shards with her hand. “How DARE he!” She repeated as the shards cut into her hand, which only made her scream a guttural shriek. 

“DADDY!” 

She stormed downstairs, bucket of glass in hand, preparing to unleash her unholy might upon her father. 

Unaware that her fate had been altered for both the worst. 

And the better.