Work Text:
His sister pokes him awake on Christmas morning and he gets a flash of their childhood again.
The two of them falling asleep in the same bed after coming home from midnight mass, too excited at the prospect of Santa leaving piles of gifts downstairs to make it to their own rooms. Popping up as the sun rose and storming the tree to see what they were left. They were always on the good list - they were Coopers kids after all - and Santa was always more than generous.
At barely eighteen-years-old he doesn’t believe in Santa anymore. He doesn’t even know if he believes in any higher power now. All he believes in is that he’s eighteen and he’s already screwed up his entire life and he may only have one shot to fix it.
Gertrude sits on the edge of his bed, glasses sliding down to the bridge of her nose as she does her hair into a loose braid. Her face is solemn, but determined. He knows she’s disappointed in him too - maybe even more so than their parents - but she’s his big sister and she cares too much about him to let that stop her from helping.
“I laid out clothes for you,” she whispers. “And swiped mom’s car keys.” She dangles them above his head. His own car was locked in the garage. Apparently losing your driving privileges were the only punishment one received after impregnating their girlfriend. It made him sick to think about. Get pregnant and you’re shamed and sent to a nunnery. Get someone pregnant and have your car locked away for a few short months.
He sits up in bed and wipes the sleep from his eyes. “Gertie, you don’t have to help. I can go alone.”
She shakes her head. “No, you can’t. Or else you would have done it already.”
They silently pull their boots on in the front foyer and Hal glances at the tree in the next room. An immaculate specimen his parents surely spent hours choosing at the lot, done up in white and gold and blue, looking like something out of the display window at Lacys.
With a pang of guilt he remembers bringing Alice on their family excursion for the perfect tree last year. The way she smiled as his father taught her how to meticulously check for dead branches and naked spots. How his mother let her have the final say and she knew well enough to choose the correct one between the three they showed her.
Even with the lights on, the presents under the tree, and the faint smell of cinnamon and pine in the air, he’s in no holiday spirit. Probably never will be again.
He gets a look at the time on the dashboard of his mom’s station wagon. 5:48 am. His mom would surely be up by 6 to start preparing Christmas dinner. His sister clicks on the radio and Darlene Love starts singing about decking the halls and how Christmas isn’t how it was last year. He swallows the lump in his throat instead of changing the station.
With no one on the road, they get to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy by 6:30 and spend the next hour and a half idly dozing off to Christmas music in the front seat.
“Do you think Mom knows we’re gone yet?” he asks as the 8 o’clock hour nears. Despite the low temperature and several inches of snow, he’s sweating. This is the closest he’s been to Alice in months.
Gertrude’s glasses slip from their resting place on the top of her hair as she shakes her head. “No. I told her we might sleep in so we could stay up late playing gin rummy.”
He does some math in his head and tries to figure out how far along she is. More than six months but certainly less than seven. He has no idea what that looks like or what to expect.
“It’s five after,” Gertrude says, her eyes dead set on the building and not the clock. “Do you need more time?”
Hal fumbles with the door handle as Gertrude turns the engine off. “Gertie, you don’t have to -”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice is stern and not unlike that of their mother’s, even though her eyes are much kinder. “I didn’t come all this way to watch you chicken out.”
Hal’s tugged back by his seatbelt and he unbuckles it with a shaking hand. He’s hot but his hands are ice cold. The brisk December air doesn’t do him any good, just makes the sweat on him turn cold and make him want to unbutton his jacket all the more.
There are only two other people waiting in the lobby of The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, a middle aged couple. A small stack of gifts is tucked under the man’s arms and a covered plate is held by the woman.
“For you and the rest of the nuns, Sister Grace,” the woman says as she hands over the plate. Hal thinks they’re probably cookies. “For all the good work you do here.”
“Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Marsh.” Sister Grace doesn’t offer so much as a smile. “Your daughter is in her room.”
The Marshes each nod and take off towards a stairwell behind. Sister Grace’s expression doesn’t change as the Cooper kids step up to the desk. Hal’s mouth opens but nothing comes out. His tongue is dry and the lump in his throat feels as big as a baseball.
“We’re here to see Alice Smith,” Gertrude says quickly. Through his coat she gives Hal’s elbow something between a squeeze and a pinch.
Sister Grace looks between them for a long, hard minute and finally asks them for identification. They've already ripped off their gloves and gone into their wallets before she says, “She’s only permitted one visitor, I’m afraid.”
Gertrude branishes her drivers license and taps it on the desk. “Excuse me?”
Sister Grace’s expression remains stoic. “Miss Smith is in a delicate state. Too many visitors will upset her.”
“And what about them?” Gertrude gestures towards the stairway. “They can go see their kid but -”
“Their daughter,” Sister Grace’s tone changes to one of impatience, as if she was speaking to a small child, “is not here for the same condition as Miss Smith.”
Condition comes out like it’s a dirty word.
“It’s okay.” Hal finds his voice and pulls his ID out of his wallet. His hands are still shaking, but at least his voice is holding together. “I can go alone.”
“Can you?” Gertrude is in protective big sister mode, but Hal shrugs her off. He doesn’t need his sister insisting the monsignor come out here himself and explain why they can’t go in together.
“Just wait here, okay?” he whispers as Sister Grace hands him back his license and gets up. “I won’t be long.”
Gertrude reluctantly takes a seat at one of the four hardback chairs near the door. The small table is empty besides a small leather-bound book Hal can only assume is a bible.
Sister Grace waits until they’re already climbing the stairs to tell him mass is at 9 o’clock sharp and he’ll need to be gone before then. He almost asks why he can’t attend as well - isn’t mass, especially Christmas mass, open to all? - but he thinks better of it. His wristwatch says it’s already 8:15.
The doors are all open on the next floor and he gets several glances at young girls brushing their hair or sitting at desks and a few simply laying fully dressed on top of their neatly made bedspreads. This doesn’t strike him as a place where that’s allowed but maybe rules are lax on holy days.
They come to a room halfway down the hall. Sister Grace gestures without another word and heads back the way they came, probably to ensure Gertrude isn’t sneaking around. Clearly not many families come to visit this early, even on Christmas morning.
The lump is back in his throat but he swallows it with a harsh gasp. He pushes the door the rest of the way open. First a bed comes into view pushed against one wall, then a dresser below a tall window, and then a desk with -
Alice sits at the desk with her back to him, a book in her hands and a notebook open in front of her. Her hair is held back with a band and even at the angle he can see a dull pencil tucked behind her ear. She’s wearing a thin cardigan - far too big for her - over a shapeless smock dress - also too big for her. The extra fabric pools around the chair and falls halfway to the floor.
There’s no one in the hallway so he takes a chance and closes the door most the way behind him. It’s the gentle creak of the hinge that stirs Alice from her reading and she turns towards him, placing the pencil to hold her place in the book.
“Is it 9 already? I must have lost track -”
She’s halfway to getting up when she sees him and she immediately falls back in her chair.
“Alice!” He rushes to her side and crouches down in front of her, checking that she’s okay. Her eyes seem to take up half her face and her mouth hangs ajar.
It’s then he really gets a good look at her. And at it. Her stomach was still flat when he’d last seen her almost twelve weeks ago. Now there was a distinct roundness under her dress, almost comical for someone so small. She looked like she’d put a basketball under there for a laugh.
When he finally rips his eyes from her stomach and meets her gaze, there are tears brimming in her eyes. It’s only then he realizes there are tears running down his own face as well.
“Hal.” Her whisper is harsh and low. “You can’t be here. There are rules.”
“Rules?” his voice cracks with a laugh he can’t control. “Since when have you ever cared about rules?”
Her lips twist into something between a smile and a pout. She wipes her eyes with the long sleeves of her cardigan and leaves wet streaks on them. Her face is clean of makeup and he realizes how much younger she looks without it.
“It’s - Hal, you don’t understand.” Her hands pause before she finally lays them on his face. They’re cold and he immediately puts his own hands over hers to warm them. “There are real rules here with real consequences. This isn’t - it’s not like school or something, okay?”
Her words sink in like molasses. Of course there are real life consequences elsewhere. That’s why she’s here.
“Do your parents know you’re here, Hal?” She rubs his cheeks slightly and he squeezes her hands. “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”
“I - Alice, what are you talking about?” He takes her hands off his face but keeps a firm hold on them. He’s still crouched in front of her chair but the numbness in his knees is hardly a tingle. “My parents have been keeping you here. You’re - this place is like a prison. They hardly let me in to see you. My sister had to follow my mom here one day because they wouldn’t even tell me where you are. I - I guess you didn’t get any of those letters I gave her, did you?” Alice shakes her head. “God, I - you must think I’m a piece of crap. I hate this. I hate myself. Look what I did to you.”
“No, Hal.” Their hands are together in front of her belly and she laces her fingers through his. “We did this. And now we’re being punished.”
“I’m not being punished though. You’re the one locked away here.”
“And you’re miserable.” She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you feel like you’re being punished?”
“Not - not the same way you are. Alice, this place - it's a prison. It’s worse actually. At least they have TV in prison.”
“We have movie nights twice a week.” Alice’s voice is so casual it almost sickens him. “Mostly weird cartoons about Jesus and PSAs about why premarital sex and homosexuality is wrong, but still. It’s something to laugh about later.”
“Alice, we’re -” Hal shakes his head. He must still be in bed dreaming. “Let’s go. We’re taking you home.”
He stands up but Alice doesn’t move. “What?”
“Gertrude is downstairs and we have my mom’s car. There must be a back door somewhere. Or I can distract that nun in the front and you can slip out.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Hal.” She gently pulls her hands from his. “I’m happy here.”
His blood goes cold. “Happy?”
Her head tilts back and forth in thought. “No, you’re right. Not happy.” She thinks for a few more seconds before looking up at him. “Safe. I’m safe here, Hal.”
“Safe?” he chokes on the word. “What? How are you safe? You were safe back home, safe with me -”
“Yeah, well if we were all that safe,” she puts air quotes around the word, “I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”
“Yeah, exactly.” He gets back down, this time on his knees so he’s right below her eye level. He pleads. “This is the opposite of safe, Alice. Let me take you home. Once you’re there my parents can’t send you away again. Home is safe. Riverdale is safe.” But her head is shaking again. She takes his hands.
“Safe for you maybe, not me. Hal, how will it look if I go back home, huh?” She scoffs. “Wow, a pregnant 17-year-old from the Southside. Big surprise there, right? I can’t - I don’t want to go back to all that judgement. I can’t let everyone know. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”
He thinks hard about the right way to say it. “Alice, you wanted this baby though. You told me -”
“I was wrong,” she snaps. “I know that now. It was some stupid pipe dream where we were going to be young happy parents and get married and your family would be a-okay with it all and they’d let us live in your house and your mom would watch the baby during the day and we’d finish school and it’d all be like an episode of Full House. Minus the laugh track.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking more clearly now than I ever have before.” Her lips pout to the side, as if she’s thinking of how to make herself clear. “You’ve never not been safe, Hal. Do you get that?”
“What - what do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s like now, okay?” She swallows hard. “Your parents are still pretty pissed at you for this whole thing, right? But what did they do to you? Take away your car for a few months?” She scoffs. “They didn’t even sell it, did they? Just sitting in the garage. I bet your dad even lets it run once a week so the battery doesn’t die. You’ve done the worst thing imaginable in your parents eyes and all they did was take away your car for a few months. You’re not even grounded.”
“Well there’s no place I want to go if you -”
“Shut up,” she says, not unkindly. “The point is - did you see how pissed my dad was the night he found out? You know what he would have done if your parents didn’t agree to take care of this whole thing? He’d probably have kicked me out. I’d be - I don’t know - couch surfing and begging for extra shifts at the diner? I’d most certainly have to drop out. And who’d watch the baby? And - don’t even say anything, Hal, you know your parents wouldn’t let you anywhere near me. And I’d be burned out long before this baby came and - and at the end of the day, I’d probably be in this same position. Giving this baby up. But at least this way - at least now, I’m here and I’m safe. No one knows. And I have my own room and bed and three meals a day and I can still graduate in June if I stay on top of everything and so what if I need to help in the kitchen everyday and watch the small kids sometimes and sit through propaganda films from the 50s? Who cares. At least I’m safe.”
He can hardly see her through the tears in his eyes. She’s a warm, blurry shape in front of him. “You can be safe with me, Alice.”
Her head shakes, slowly and sadly. “I love you, Hal. But sometimes that’s not enough. It’s not enough right now. I don’t want to leave here with you. I don’t want to go back to Riverdale before I have this baby.” She waits for him to wipe his eyes so he can see her clearly again. “I don’t want this baby anymore.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“And what if I do? What if I want this now? The baby? And you? What if we -”
“No.” Her loose hair falls around her face as she shakes her head furiously. “Too little, too late. You don’t get to change your mind now. Just because you feel shitty.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
He bites his lip hard and sniffles. He feels like a pleading child. “I just don’t understand, Alice. How you can want to be here. On Christmas.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” She touches his face again and her hands are just a little warmer this time. “You need to go home, okay? They're not above calling your mom and telling her you’re here.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.” Her eyes dart to the door before she leans down and gives him a kiss. Her lips linger just a little longer than he expects, but he doesn’t push his luck and lean in for another. Instead he presses his nose against hers.
“I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too.” She rubs his cheek one last time and gently pushes him away. “I’ll see you in a few months.”
He stands up straight, a slight crack coming from his knees. “Where does this leave us?”
She shrugs. “I’ll just see you in a few months, okay?”
He nods. The last look of her he gets is her finally standing up, her back arching under the weight of their baby. She runs one hand through her hair as the other falls on her rounded stomach.
Gertrude jumps out of her chair when he reaches the empty foyer, but he has no words for her, nothing that will make any of this make sense. They walk to the car in silence, fresh snow cracking under their feet. Gertrude thought this would help him, fix him. All it did was strengthen that undying ache in his chest that’s been there for months.
He plays Alice’s words over and over again in his head. Safe. Safe. Safe. Maybe you could never really understand what it was like to be safe if you’ve never been unsafe before.
He wonders what if his parents have a plan for Alice when she comes home. Would her father even let her back in his house after this? Is she really going to be allowed to graduate?
A thousand and one thoughts rush his mind and before they’re even back in town he’s turned up the radio so loud he can’t think anymore. Cheerful Christmas music blasts his ears and, bless his sister, Gertrude doesn’t complain and doesn’t sing along like everything is normal.
There is no normal anymore. Not for him and Alice. And for the rest of their lives, even if they do get their happily ever after together, they’ll always have a kid out there they’ll never know.
And maybe Alice is right. That is his punishment.