Work Text:
Head canon for this: Shiv and Roman are twins. The younger Roys spend half the year in England and half in the US. Inspired by the Succession premiere at the Natural History Museum, The Royal Tenenbaums, and also by The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler.
The Blue Whale loomed above him in the darkness. Kendall clutched his brochure that he’d been given—as had everyone in his sixth-grade class—and he stared up at the hulking life size model. And as his classmates darted from diorama to diorama, gazing at the sea creatures, Kendall stood, frozen, gazing at the whale.
The biggest animal on earth.
The room, however large and bustling it was on that Wednesday afternoon, was cozy.
“I could live here,” Kendall thought to himself, “I could live at the Natural History Museum.”
He thought of sleeping in the clam shell he’d seen in the room with the giant squid.
“I'm going to live at the Museum of Natural History.”
Later that evening, after dinner, Kendall unfolded the brochure on his bedroom floor with the floor plan out before him. In red marker, he dotted the areas that would make a good living space.
The clam shell was still a viable sleeping option, but the Hayden Planetarium definitely had more space. And how nice it would be to sleep under the night sky—and whichever night sky he wanted, at that. He got to work, putting together a bag and making a list of necessities. The Duane Reade was only down the street. He could go there tomorrow after school, cut across the park, and head straight to the museum to set up.
Shiv walked by his open door, having just come home from ballet. The recital was that Saturday, and they were rehearsing every evening until then. She bounced back into the doorway, her hair in a tight chignon.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Her older brother sat hunched over the glossy paper before him, extremely engrossed.
“Oh, nothing important,” he lied. It felt kinda great.
“Oh yeah?” Shiv couldn’t contain her interest. At eight, she hadn’t the tact quite yet. She leaned against the doorway, propping her dirty ballet slipper against her stockinged calf. She’d been explicitly told by Madame Sidorova, who was scandalized at the sight of them, to not wear the slippers home.
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t understand,” Kendall dug at her. It wasn’t usually his pastime of choice. That was more Roman’s area.
“Wanna bet?” she stalked closer to him and peered over his shoulder. Kendall was proud of the way the brochure looked. Like a heist plan. Or a mad scientist’s scrawls.
“The Museum of Natural History,” Shiv read the words across the top. “What is the marker for?”
“Oh, well, I think I’m gonna live there.”
“You’re not allowed to live there.”
“No, they’ll let me,” Kendall let the words fall from his lips and thought of how his dad might be able to call the museum and get permission for him to live there. That could happen, right?
“Wait, you’re going to live there?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I am. Starting tomorrow.”
“Wait. I wanna live at the Natural History Museum.”
“Well, you can’t.”
“Yes, if you can, I CAN,” Shiv raised her voice for a moment and scurried out of the room. Kendall heard her bedroom door slam shut.
The noise prompted Roman to appear in his doorway. He was eating a piece of pizza that was larger than his head.
Kendall was shocked, “Greta cooked us dinner—”
“Yeah, I didn’t want that,” Roman took a large bite and the cheese hung between his mouth and the pizza. He drew the piece further away, daring for the cheese to lengthen. “I had her call Mimi’s. And I got a pizza.”
“Well, OK—”
“—I think she’s poisoning us—”
“—who—Greta? Ro, she’s not poisoning—”
“Yeah, I’m gonna get her fired.”
“No, she’s like the best one! You can’t get her fired, too.”
Roman leaned over to see Kendall’s work and a glob of cheese fell onto the brochure.
“God, Roman,” Kendall flicked it off and continued to work on his toiletries list. He didn’t use dental floss, but that seemed to be a thing he would need.
“What are you doing?” Roman asked, using his school uniform sleeve to wipe the marinara sauce from his chin.
“I’m going to live at the Museum of Natural History.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Well, I’m going to buy the Museum of Natural History.”
“You can’t buy the museum.”
“If you’re gonna live there, I’m going to buy it.”
Kendall ignored his brother, who only grew angrier.
“Well…” Roman now had forgotten the pizza slice, which sat on the speaker of Kendall’s stereo. “I wanna live at the Museum of Natural History.”
Kendall was silent, working. Maybe candy would be a wise purchase for this endeavor.
The next day, the car picked him (and his siblings) up at the school gate and carted them home as usual. He’d originally planned to pick up provisions, but maybe the car ride home would be for the best. Keep a low profile and all that. The plan had changed only slightly, but Kendall was smug, excited, silent. It drove Shiv and Roman crazy.
At four, Kendall gathered his things with the idea of pretending to go to his violin lesson, and performed the action of taking his case down the stairs (along with a stuffed backpack and his rolling suitcase) of the brownstone—if only for the housekeeper’s benefit.
He would miss Greta now that he was a Natural History Museum resident, Kendall thought, she was the best housekeeper they’d had in five years.
As he struggled with his bags at the bottom of his front steps, Shiv burst through the front door after him. She had packed her ballet bag full of items, and she was running down the steps.
“Are you going to rehearsal?” Kendall’s backpack kept slipping off his shoulder, but he refused to wear both straps for fear of looking like a nerd.
“No,” Shiv said coolly as their car pulled up—as if it had been called? “I’m going to live at the Museum of Natural History.”
She hopped in the car, slammed the door shut behind her, and was off across town.
“What the—” Kendall watched, dazed, as the town car pulled onto Park Ave.
Roman was next to burst forth from the house—but he exited from the garden door. The wrought iron gate was forced open by the front wheel of his bicycle. He had his tote bag that he got from summer camp slung across his back.
“Ro—” Kendall watched, dizzy by his younger brother’s force. “Where are you—”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Roman mounted his bike and started pedaling. He called from over his shoulder nonchalantly, “I’m going to live at the Museum of Natural History.”
Kendall fumed; that was his plan. And his younger siblings had planned better.
